


The Fire Down Below

by Blaumeise



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Communication Failure, Consent Issues, F/M, Lots of Sex, M/M, Multi, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, be prepared to feel lots of second hand embarrassment while reading this, lots of consent issues, prejudices, really really bad sex, they are all idiots, violence (mainly past)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 61
Words: 253,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaumeise/pseuds/Blaumeise
Summary: Izzy is content with his life. He has his ship, his crew, his business of running cargo between planets, and there is enough empty space in the galaxy to stay away from civilization most of the time. No need to change anything.But one moment of getting carried away is as enough and his life suddenly takes a totally new direction. When after a job done well, he stumbles across a slave he really doesn’t need (young, pretty, sexual offender) a simple impulse buy is shaking up his whole existence.As a class zero citizen, Duff was used to life being shit, even before he got into conflict with the law and found himself suddenly facing a lifetime of servitude. Therefore, trying to make the best out of this newest complication comes naturally to him. However, his new master his really not making things easy because somehow, he did not read his ‘how-to-treat-your-slave’ manual.Will Izzy ever see the errors of his ways? Will Duff realize that he’s suffering from a severe case of Stockholm syndrome? Will Axl finally find a friend? And why does Slash’s track record with women suck the way it does?
Relationships: Axl Rose/Slash | Saul Hudson, Duff McKagan/Izzy Stradlin
Comments: 916
Kudos: 108





	1. Bought and Sold

**Author's Note:**

> This is the GNR - science fiction- slave epos really nobody asked for. But I checked the archive and there isn’t one. So, you’ll get it now. Consider yourself warned.

**Part I**

Every town on Pitraria was supposed to receive the exact same annual amount of rain. A Pitrarian week was nine days long and once during these nine days, the artificial band of clouds would sweep in, blacken the sky and drench everything in a sudden downpour of water. Or not. 

Originally the design had been different. A gentle breeze would announce the arrival of the clouds and an equally gentle rain would water the fields and fill the cisterns. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked that way for long and now it was a question of luck whether a place received enough water to keep their population thriving, whether it was washed away in a flood wave or wouldn’t receive anything at all. 

The deserts were vast, the vegetation dwindling with each year that passed. Some locations were lucky enough to get a good soaking every now and then, others were on the losing end. 

Roan, Pitraria’s administrative capital, was usually in the “not so lucky” category, but today was different. Black clouds had formed on the horizon and when the windswept in to announce the downpour, people ran for cover. 

Pitraria, a class C planet under artificial atmosphere, was an important spaceport on an equally important trade route. Space ships took on cargo and supplies, made necessary repairs, or collected payment for completed jobs. 

Roan was located just a few steps next to the equator where the temperatures had once been pleasant enough for humans to set up camp but had changed to obnoxiously hot over the last few decades. 

Under normal circumstances the town would have just been left to die, but relocating the port would have been a major nuisance. Therefore, the administration had approved the costs to pump enough water in to keep the supplies on a tolerable level. At least if one did not count the slums, but those were mainly inhabited by class zero citizens and therefore of lesser importance. 

Izzy cursed his luck when, just after he had collected payment from the administration for yet another delivery job, plus a bonus fee for managing faster than planned, he stepped out of the building and realized that the whole quarter had been drained off people. 

Finding oneself all alone on what was normally a busy shopping strip, while the sky darkened and the storm swept through the streets was weird enough, but he still wasn’t prepared for the shock when the rain suddenly set in. 

It had nothing to do with the type of rain one experienced under a natural atmosphere. Floodgates opened like pipes had burst all over the sky and within seconds he was drenched to the bone. Cursing under his breath he looked around for shelter, a bar, a shop, anything that would provide a roof until the clouds had passed on. 

The administrative area didn’t offer many opportunities, and so Izzy just ran into the first open shop he could find. The front was small, the building designed in this deliberately old-fashioned Earth retro- style that seemed to take over complete towns. The door even had a handle one had to be pushed down to enter, and there was a sign with cursive letters over the entrance he did not bother to read. 

The door rattled in his hand as he hastily closed it behind himself to keep the rain out. That’s why mankind had designed automatic sliding doors, so that wind wouldn’t tear them out of one’s hand!

He was just about to wipe wet hair out of his face when he felt about a dozen pairs of eyes on himself. 

Startled Izzy looked around. The shop was small, nothing but a single room. The walls were lined with what looked like fish tanks, maybe ten on each side, and in each tank sat a person. Automatically Izzy made a step back, bumped against the closed door and the handle bored painfully into his back. 

“Can I help you?” a voice asked. 

For a second Izzy looked from one cell to the next, expecting one of the inmates to have spoken. They hadn’t, of course. Instead, a man stood up behind the counter at the far end. He was in his late forties, maybe, dressed in an immaculate business suit, and didn’t look like he expected to do any business with somebody like Izzy. Somebody who might buy a slave in one of the warehouses around the port or maybe from a prison auction, but definitely not in a quaint little high-end shop like this. 

No, this wasn’t a place he would usually take his business to. He hadn’t even been aware slave shops like this existed. 

The cells were not only clean but set up like comfy little rooms behind the security glass. Each was equipped with an armchair and a small table and, strangely enough, a large flowerpot. To make things more bizarre than they already were, some had windows drawn on the walls, others were decorated with pretty murals. It looked like a dollhouse, not like an establishment that sold human beings. 

It was kind of … perverted, was the only word he could come up with. Which was saying a lot, given that some people considered the whole slave business a perversion in itself. 

Izzy, however, didn’t have such qualms. There were certain aspects he did not approve of, but the whole concept had always been there and always would and he had never been one to try and change the world. 

He found himself staring at the merchandise again, mentally reminding himself to not let his mouth hang open. 

Two little twin girls, both dressed in pink ruffles, sat on a carpet and played with matching dolls and tiny plastic cups. They seemed to have a tea party. The other slaves were just as clean and well dressed, some even had books in their cells and seemed almost at ease with their situation, except … 

Izzy made a step towards one of the cells on the right side. The man in there looked not exactly dirty, but still a little disheveled in his standard prisoner getup. He sat in the mandatory armchair, head down and hair hanging over his face. 

“Ah, yes,” the assistant, ‘Dex’ according to his name tag, said, and his expression lit up. 

While Izzy was not a likely customer for little girls in pink dresses, he might just be the client to buy a freshly auctioned off convict. 

“Our newcomer. Arrived just this morning. We didn’t really have time to make him comfortable yet.” 

He rapped against the glass pane, a lot louder than necessary, and the man looked up. He was young, Izzy noted, in his early twenties maybe, with shaggy blond hair, handsome features, and wary brown eyes. 

Dex motioned for him to get up and the kid obeyed reluctantly. In the tiny cell, he looked like a sapling, very tall and wiry, not fully filled out yet, but promising. The width of the shoulders was there, but everything else looked just a little bit too long. A year or two and a bit more food would take care of that. 

“It’s mainly because of his height. Nothing would fit properly, so we put him back into the clothes he came in. After running them through the decontaminator. He also still needs a decent haircut, I have to admit. But we did wash him down, of course, and he was thoroughly disinfected, in case you’re interested and would like to touch.”

“What’s his misdeed?” Izzy asked. 

“Something … well…” Dex sighed as if it was hurting his sensibilities to speak about such unpleasantries. “Sexual coercion, it seems.”

“Really,” Izzy said, somehow surprised. 

Of course, one should never judge a book by the cover, but the kid was good-looking enough to get laid without being pushy. 

“Yes. Of a minor. Oh, he’s not a paedophile, in case you’re worried. The boy in question was only a month or two beyond legal age and of questionable reputation himself. And our delinquent here was under the influence of some illegal substances, which might have impaired his judgment. Still, a crime was committed and the law is clear, so his sentence is absolutely valid.”

Izzy suppressed a snort. Pitraria was probably the most uptight planet in the entire galaxy. Of course, drug abuse would have gained him a sentence anyway, but it was the sexual crime that put the ‘lifetime’ before the verdict of ‘servitude’. 

“Does he have any skills?” 

He didn’t really need a slave. He could run the ship with Axl and Slash just fine, but the kid was pretty and apparently had a promiscuous streak. With a bit of tutoring, he might even make a suitable mechanic, and he could always use another pair of hands on a ship as derelict as the XXG. 

Izzy looked at the label that was attached to the cage and startled. 

“Why is … Duff…,” he read the name, “why is he so cheap?” 

The price was ridiculous for a young healthy slave, especially one serving a lifetime sentence. Drug abuse might decrease the price, but he didn’t look subdued in any way, he wasn’t sweating and his hands didn’t tremble. If he had been an addict, then he had been cleaned up before auction, just as the protocol demanded. A shop like this wouldn’t sell slaves for peanuts unless something was seriously wrong with them. 

“No, to the first question, sadly he is completely untrained. And to the second: his mental capability seems to be reduced.”

“Is it, now,” Izzy mumbled. He looked into the brown eyes again and found the look at least alert. He also had the impression that the kid was following the conversation just fine. How stupid was he?

“Unfortunately. It makes training difficult. But he is quite mild-mannered and with his looks … let’s say, he might be suitable for certain activities.”

Izzy eyed the other slaves. Most of them seemed well trained, born slaves instead of convicts. They appeared meek, eyes respectfully downcast and not the slightest threat in their posture. Slaves that would serve as cooks, maids, maybe personal assistants, nannies, or companions. Duff on the other hand was still staring at him. He didn’t appear overly aggressive, but there was a clear hostility in his posture that he wasn’t able to hide. 

“He doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the merchandise.”

Dex sighed again. Apparently having to sell subpar merchandise did not make him happy. “This is not …, oh all right. He was part of a larger group. We also do wholesale for certain clients.”

Factories, Izzy assumed. Mines, quarries, brothels. Places where no slave wanted to end. 

“Unfortunately, the deal fell through and we are stuck with the whole batch, costs for their living arrangements and …” he broke off. “Duff is the only one who is remotely suitable for our shop assortments. Not exactly as a family servant as he will have to be kept with an ounce of caution, but for the entertainment of a single gentleman … We are aware that he is below our usual standards. Which is why his price is quite low. And which is also why we offer a trial period. He can be returned free of charge within the month, no questions asked.”

Izzy hmmed. He was dressed the way most spacers were, in durable working pants and a comfy jacket that probably still sported traces of oil here and there. Wherever he would be in a month, Dex was very likely aware it wouldn’t be near Pitraria. 

“Would you like to have a closer look, sir?”

He shouldn’t, Izzy knew, not really. The collected money was meant for repairs, supplies, provisions, not for … what had Dex called him … ‘entertainment for a single gentleman’. But he did like Duff’s looks, even if he was a bit too tall for his tastes, and especially, he liked the defiance he kept so well in check. Nothing a dimwit should be able to do. Something did not add up and Izzy was never one to say ‘no’ to a challenge.

“Why not,” he said, trying for nonchalant. 

Dex pushed back his sleeve and held the control bracelet against the lock of Duff’s cell. The glass door slid back and Izzy entered. Duff visibly squared his shoulders, but he stood his ground. He remained where he was, not the way a slave would hold still for inspection, more like he was unwilling to give as much as an inch. Izzy had to say, he approved. 

“Take off your shirt,” he said and tugged softly at the hem. “Let me have a look at you.”

Duff looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he pulled the grey and orange striped prison sweater over his head. 

“Thank you,” Izzy said with a hint of a smirk. “Arms up.”

This was a routine every prisoner knew and so the reaction was less hesitant. Duff stood with his arms outstretched while Izzy ran a hand over his ribs, prodding a little into his soft tissues, looking for flinches that indicated damaged organs. Then he stepped around the slave and admired the rearview. There were no whip marks on his back and when Izzy wiped the hair away and inspected the neck around the obligatory control collar, he didn’t find any burns either. The same went for the cuffs around his wrists. There was very little chafing, indicating that they were hardly ever linked to each other. The last time had probably been during transport. 

Duff seemed indeed to be quite ‘mild-mannered’. Or maybe he just possessed the wit to stay out of trouble and spared himself punishment. Not a bad trait in a slave, especially on a small ship where they would all be living on top of each other. Whatever the reason, it was none that spoke of a simple mind. 

Izzy closed his hands around Duff’s neck to gauge his reaction, but he held still. Then he let his hands run over the naked shoulders, down his sides, and to his hips. He stopped briefly, then slipped his index fingers into the elastic of the waistband and pulled the pants down. 

Duff stiffened. So far, he had suffered through the examination in an almost relaxed state, but this was hitting a nerve. Izzy was not surprised. Sexual offenders never fared well behind bars, neither in prison, nor in the slave training camps, and no matter how fast Duff had been sold off, he would have gone through the mandatory training. 

True enough, when Izzy gently parted his buttocks … which made Duff turn from stiff to rigid… he found the usual damage. It wasn’t too bad, a few tears, most of them halfway healed, but enough to justify apprehension. A little blood trickled out when tried to check how deep the worst gash ran, and he gave up. It would have to wait. 

When Izzy looked up, he noticed that Dex had discretely stepped out of sight, not without leaving a single-use set of gloves and lube on the table. 

“How obliging,” he muttered. “Get dressed,” he added more clearly and for once Duff hurried to obey. 

“Teeth,” Izzy ordered and turned the slave around to face him. “Come on, open up.”

He cupped Duff’s face with both hands and angled his head downwards as the kid reluctantly opened his mouth. 

“Wider, kid,” Izzy admonished. “Pretend you’re at the dentist.”

Duff looked mutinous now, but he still obeyed without fault. His teeth looked good, just as the rest of his mouth. There weren’t any sores that indicated prolonged drug abuse. Just as there were no needle scars on his arms, nor any of the typical skin lesions junkies of almost all denominations sported. Finally, he had a closer look at his eyes, pulling the lids up and down a little. They were slightly bloodshot, but Duff probably hadn’t gotten much sleep in quite some time. 

“Listen, kid,” Izzy said in a low voice, “we both know you’re not stupid and I have no idea why you’re pretending. Unless you think it might make me drop my guard and give you a chance at escape. Forget it. I’ll take you to my ship and we’ll leave still today and then there’s only space and more space and nothing but space for months. So, playing dumb will become boring very fast, for you and me both. Nod if you understand.”

Duff gave a curt nod. 

“Good. You’re in this for the rest of your life and the only way you can make it even halfway agreeable is by becoming a skilled, well-trained, obedient slave. One people pay good money for and which they keep in good condition because replacement would be expensive. Understood?”

Another nod, even jerkier than the first one. 

“See? Not so difficult. You’ll get that chance with me. You take it or you don’t. It’s up to you. I don’t care for moronic dimwits on my ship. I have neither money nor patience for that. So, I’ll let you know the deal. You will be fed. You will be clothed. You will be treated fairly. And I’ll take time out of my very busy day to train you. You will be diligent, amenable, and grateful for what you get. I don’t want sass, I don’t want drama, and I definitely don’t want pretended stupidity. Nod if you got it.”

Duff did him the favour. 

“Good. Oh, and I don’t like to repeat myself. You got the talk. If I’ll have to run you through this again, it will be a very unpleasant experience.”

He gently patted Duff’s cheek, then turned his back on him and headed for Dex and the counter. 

“Should I draw up his papers?” Dex asked. 

“By all means,” Izzy replied. He looked out at the street and noticed that the rain had stopped. The clouds had moved on to drench the next city on their way. 

‘Papers’ was an old-fashioned word, back from the days when unimaginable amounts of resources had been wasted on physical versions of almost everything, but people still used it. Dex pulled Duff’s identity up on his computer, and all Izzy had to do was agree to the transaction, pay via the system, and all information, including registration at the appropriate authorities, was transferred to his bracelet. 

Fifteen minutes later Captain Jeffrey Isbell left the quaint little shop and stepped out under the freshly washed, but still only dirty blue sky, with a young, healthy and very confused slave in tow.


	2. Meet the Gang

Duff was used to the regular deluges of Pitraria. According to his Mom he had been born during one, and since then he had been there for each and every one that followed. Leaving the planet had never been an option, not with a constantly drunk mother and half a dozen younger half siblings. He still cursed this one. Prison garb came with soft soled canvas shoes that were by no means made to wade through puddles the size that had formed on the sidewalks. 

Normally he prided himself to possess a certain dexterity and avoiding the minor lakes around him shouldn’t have been an issue, but he had never attempted such an endeavour while being tethered to another person. 

His new master … he would have to get used to that title … had set the distance to under five steps, meaning whenever he left that radius, he got an electric shock. It wasn’t overly painful, not until he reached the next virtual barrier, by which the pain would be enough to bring him to his knees. Still, getting jolted every few steps had turned annoying pretty fast. 

Checking through his options he had decided to go for wet feet and after just a few yards, water was squeaking in his shoes. 

His master didn’t seem to care. He strode on steadily, making people get out of his way at last minute, which meant Duff, who was obliged to step out of pretty much everybody’s way, had to jump to keep up with him. 

At least his pains were short lived and he didn’t have to walk all the way down to the port. They stopped at a public transport station. Little vehicles picked up or spit out passengers and when they entered their own cubicle, Duff dropped down with a sigh of relief. Only after he had placed his ass on the seat did he remember that he shouldn’t have assumed. He hesitated, waited for the prompt that relegated him to the floor, but it didn’t come. 

Instead his master had his chip read for payment, entered their destination and the little cubicle moved into the traffic. 

“What kind of ship are you running, master?” Duff asked. 

Slaves were not allowed to speak without being prompted, one of the first lessons he had learned, but he had a million questions and he wanted to test the waters a little bit. The cubicle was too small to dole out any severe punishment and take off was a busy time on any ship. Some masters kept tallies over longer periods, and added each and every tiny infraction up for one heavy beating, but if he had gotten one of those, it was good to know right away. 

“You’ll see,” was the answer. “And don’t call me … don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“Sure. Sir.”

“Yeah, no. That won’t do either. Izzy. It’s … just use my name. Izzy. I don’t care for formalities. You do what you’re told and we’ll get along fine. No need to make things complicated.”

“Thank you,” Duff replied, a little confused. 

This was the first time somebody didn’t care for the formal titles. He had worked along slaves often enough, and no master ever had allowed them to use their name. Even Duff, whose caste was only one step up from being a slave, had always been addressed with ‘sir’ in case they needed to speak to him, just as he addressed anybody from a higher caste with ‘sir’ himself. 

They fell into silence after that and Duff tried to get a closer look of the person who owned him without being too obvious and risk a slap. Izzy was smaller than him, but most people were. His age was a bit difficult to estimate because his face was shadowed by a cap from under which dark hair grew almost to his shoulders. Duff estimated him to be around thirty, but he could just as well be younger or older. 

It was the facial expression that threw him off, which was serious, with a frown that seemed to be cut into his forehead. His skin, on the other hand, was still smooth and free of any signs of age. Still, it didn’t say much. Planet based life meant you were exposed to a lot more ultraviolet light than somebody who spent his days on a space ship. On some planets the atmosphere was so horrible, even children developed the typical skin blemishes of old age. 

His clothes were a conglomerate of textures and colours layered on top of each other, the flashiest item a purple scarf over some clunky necklace. He had an apparent penchant for piercings and wore rings in both ears and his nose. There were also several rings at his fingers and while the control bracelet was clipped to his left wrist, leather bands were tied around the right one. Duff had never seen anybody dress like that on Pitraria. 

When they were maybe twenty minutes into their journey, Izzy pulled an external payment chip out of his pocket and loaded it via his bracelet. 

“Here,” he said and handed it over. 

Duff took it and looked at it in confusion. The amount was quite substantial for somebody like him, who even as a free man had paid his way through life from day to day. 

“I don’t really care for orange,” Izzy said drily. “We’ll stop at a warehouse. This is your clothes allowance for a year. Probably longer. You forget to buy it, you’ll have to do without. I don’t think you’ll fit into anybody’s discards on board. Think practical, durable, warm. When you’re done, change into something that doesn’t make you look like you have been dragged right off the auction block.”

“OK,” Duff replied. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, right,” Izzy muttered and looked out of the window. 

He was mumbling and muttering a lot, Duff noticed. He didn’t care for formalities, didn’t like the colour orange, and apparently, he didn’t care for thank yous either. It was not much, but it was good to know everything there was to know about the person who held your entire life in their hands. 

The warehouse they stopped at was close to the port, the type of facility where spacers stocked up before leaving the orbit. When Duff entered, he was stopped right away and waved into a little cabin to the right. 

“Permit,” the security guard said and Duff held up his hand to have his bracelet scanned. 

Slave bracelets were worked into the cuffs and had very few functions. One was the permit to enter public spaces without supervision. The owner allocated a certain timespan – Izzy had granted him an hour to do his shopping – and took full responsibility for the slave’s behaviour during this timeframe. Once the permit ran out, the collar was activated full force. 

The scanner beeped its approval and Duff raised his arms to be patted down for potential weapons. 

“Good,” the guard said, not without an extra pat on his ass. “We have a zero-tolerance policy for troublemakers.”

“Understood, sir,” Duff replied, eyes down, voice subdued, counting inwardly to a hundred to keep himself for lashing out. 

“You’d better.” The guard stepped aside and Duff checked the countdown on his bracelet. They had wasted almost five minutes on this bullshit and he had no idea what he really needed. How did one buy clothes for an entire year, especially when he didn’t know what situations he would be dealing with? 

“Practical, durable and warm,” he muttered as he looked at the shelves. It sounded a lot more promising than “I bet you’d look good in pink lace”, but it prepared him far less for what to expect. ‘Warm’ could mean anything, from drafty corridors to working in a cooling chamber. He didn’t even know what type of ship Izzy was running. Maybe they were transporting frozen goods or travelled to an ice planet. 

Eventually he decided to start with the basics. Everybody needed socks and underwear after all. In the end he went for layering. Simple T-shirts on the bottom he worked himself up to a padded jacket that was so thick, he had no idea what type of weather would ever warrant such a piece of clothing. But what did he know, he had spent all his life in the desert. 

Pants were difficult to find, as always, they were either too short in the leg or too wide around his ass, but the latter could at least be solved with a belt and so he didn’t bother much with searching for perfect fit. 

The other difficult issue was boots. Same problems, big size, but narrow feet, but again, socks could make up for what the fit wouldn’t deliver. In the end he was lucky and found a pair of sturdy working boots that didn’t make him stumble when he laced them on. 

Duff checked the time again. Ten more minutes. He had to take paying into account, but there wasn’t a line and so he used the last of his credit to add a hat, a scarf and mittens to his cart before hurrying for checkout. 

The cashier didn’t feel the need to hurry at all. She was reading something on a screen, and of course Duff couldn’t ask her to come over and ring him up. Time was ticking by and he felt more and more anxious by the minute. Full force shock was nothing to trifle with and often enough it was situations like these that made a slave miscalculate. 

Duff cursed himself, wondering why the hell he had dawdled over colours, of all things, when choosing his shirts. But if he was honest, he had taken Izzy’s account of ‘I don’t like orange’ into account when making that choice and had not only omitted orange, but also yellow and red, just to be on the safe side. Now that he looked at it, his whole collection was blue, grey, black. 

Finally, finally the woman came over and started to ring up his clothes in slow motion. She tossed a few plastic bags into his direction and Duff quickly stuffed them with his new belongings, not caring that he was wrinkling everything. 

Just when she was done and announced the total without even looking up, Duff felt the warning jolt. It indicated one more minute before the collar was fully activated. He pressed the payment chip against the scanner, barely waited for the beep, then grabbed his bags and ran. The next jolt – a double shock this time – indicated thirty seconds left and then they came by the second. Ten – nine – eight – seven . 

The street was busy, but Duff didn’t care. He just ran, doing his best to avoid the numerous vehicles and hoping that there weren’t too many personal drivers in his way. He was lucky. There was a lot of yelling, but automated shuttles stopped as soon as something moved into their sensors. He made it alive across the road to where Izzy was waiting. He hammered against the button that opened the door, and jumped in just when the alarm went off with a loud beep. 

Izzy gave him a bewildered look, but Duff didn’t care. He was puffing out air while he clutched the bags in his laps. 

“I told you to get changed,” Izzy said. 

Duff stiffened and his breath stuck in his throat. He had forgotten. His first order and he had fucked it up. 

“Close the door,” Izzy said and started the transport vehicle. 

There was no heat in his voice, but Duff wasn’t stupid. Orders were orders and orders had to be followed, no matter how insignificant they may seem to be. It wasn’t his decision to decide which parts of an order he followed, and if he usurped that right to decide anything at all, it was the first step towards insubordination and insubordination had to be nipped in the bud. Preferably by the use of a good old-fashioned whip. 

They spent the last part of the trip in silence. Izzy stared out of the window and Duff into his lap. Duff knew the ports, but this was the first time he stepped past the borders and towards the mooring stations. It was a magnificent sight. Large passenger cruisers lined up to one side of the main station, colourful slogans emblazoned into the gleaming metal, but Izzy directed him towards the smaller trading ships. The hangar was huge and they had to enter another shuttle, a larger cabin this time that they shared with countless spacers. 

Duff watched as they passed the ships, some sleek and shiny, some bulky, some dented by meteorites, the surface dulled from radiation, and slowly the enormity of what was about to happen sank in. For the first time in his life he was about to leave his home planet, his family, his friends, everything he knew, not to seek out adventure as he had dreamed about, but to live out his life at the mercy of strangers. 

His friends, broke as they were, had promised to somehow scrap the money together and buy his contract, and likewise Duff had promised to hold out until they managed. Only now they wouldn’t even be able to find him. Izzy could take him anywhere for as long as it pleased him. He could sell him on another planet, to another ship, even another empire. He would just get lost in the universe.

The Planetarian Union at least had something like slave laws. They didn’t pertain to much and were seldom enforced, but they existed. Even on a large trading or military vessel there would be some adherence to regulations. On a free trading ship however, the Captain was the law. Whatever Izzy decided to do to Duff, nobody would ever step in. Nobody would even notice. It was possible, likely even, that he wouldn’t set foot on shore for years. 

Breathing suddenly became difficult and before Duff could compose himself, the cabin stopped and the doors slid open. Like a sleepwalker he stood up and followed Izzy out into the labyrinth of gangways that led to the single ships. 

He made a few steps and then he was unable to move. His knees threatened to buckle as he froze in place. Izzy, oblivious to his predicament, walked on and Duff felt the first electric jolt as the distance exceeded five steps. Then the second, the third and then the rapid fire of impulses set in that warned a slave of the consequences if they didn’t get their shit together right away. Still, Duff was unable to do anything about it. He just stood, thankful he wasn’t collapsing, his heart racing and his muscles twitching from all the little shocks he was receiving. 

Izzy stopped and turned around. His face didn’t give anything away, no annoyance about his incompetent slave, but no understanding either. 

“What …,” he said, then covered the few steps distance himself. The jolting stopped and Duff did his best to pull himself together. 

“Come,” Izzy said and took him by his shoulder. “Not far now.”

It took Duff a few more deep breaths, but then he was able to make a step. Izzy’s hand slipped down to the small of his back and stayed there, not allowing him to get out of radius again. 

The next panic attack loomed when they reached their destination. This ship was neither sleek nor blank nor glamorous in any way. It looked like a lizard to Duff, long and narrow with a dull, uneven coloured surface. Like it was built out of leftovers from a scrapyard and given up afterwards as a lost case. 

Izzy entered a code into his bracelet and the hatch opened in slow motion. The screeching sound it made was not exactly inspiring confidence. Once more Duff got the feeling that his life was over. 

“Welcome onboard,” Izzy said with a grin. 

Duff was prudent enough to not remark on the state of the ship. He just swallowed his nausea and entered. 

The inside was dark, a narrow tunnel, barely high enough for Duff to stand straight. The end was blocked by a heavy iron door that opened by pulling a system of levers. Who still used levers? How old was this ship? 

It took a moment before Duff’s eyes adjusted to the flickering light on the other side, but what he then saw made him almost run for the hatch again. The interior of the ship was … raw for lack of a better word. A system of rusty catwalks, staircases and ladders led up and down and pretty much everywhere. Condense water dripped from the ceiling and sizzled when it hit hot metal. A low hum ran through the whole ship, making it vibrate in sync with the engine somewhere hidden within its belly. 

It looked like the bare bones of a ship, something hastily cobbled together as a delayed school project and dumped into a waste bin after presentation day. His new home for who knew how many years. 

“Up there,” Izzy said and pointed towards one of the open metal staircases. “I’ll deactivate the radius tracker now. Doesn’t mean you can just go everywhere. For now, you only go where you’re told and if you’re not sure if something is OK, ask.”

“Yes,” Duff replied. “Thank you, sir. Izzy,” he corrected himself quickly when Izzy pulled a face. He really didn’t like being thanked.

It took him a moment to realize that he was meant to walk ahead. During his six months of slave training ‘following’ had been a huge deal. There was only one reason for a slave to walk in front of his master, when they were moving through a mine field. Apart from that the slave followed. But Izzy had also said something about not liking to repeat himself, Duff remembered dimly, and so he climbed the narrow staircase ahead of his master. 

“This way,” Izzy told him and pointed to the left, leading the way this time. 

This corridor seemed in better condition. White panels covered the walls, only here and there one was missing and opening the view to heavy tubing and myriads of cables. The catwalks had given way to actual flooring and the light, while still dim, at least didn’t flicker.

Another stairway followed and another and then they entered a room that looked like some kind of kitchen. Appliances lined the wall, cups and plates were scattered over counters and in the middle, around a table, sat two men and played cards. 

The man to the right, a pale redhead, was the first to put down his hand. His long hair was held back by a bandana and he swiped the last strands over his shoulders as he now looked up. His expression was slightly spooked, Duff noticed, but he schooled his features quickly enough. 

“Ah,” Izzy said. “Glad to see you kept yourself busy while I was out.”

“We did everything on your list,” the redhead lifted his pointy chin a defiant extra inch, exposing the slave collar around his neck.

“And it didn’t occur to you … either of you… that our dear girl might cherish some extra loving care?”

"Really, chief,” the other man said. “I love her just as much as you do, but she’s an old hag.” 

At first Duff couldn’t make out much of his face in the middle of a thick mane of black curls, but then he pushed them away and revealed surprisingly soft features, dark eyes, full lips which he now pulled into a smile. Duff looked for the slave collar, but found none. 

“Shame on you,” Izzy said. 

“Right. Who’s that?” He pointed into Duff’s direction. 

“Ah yes. Children, meet Duff. He’s new in class. Be nice to him, help him with his homework, and don’t steal his lunch. Duff, meat the gang. These are Slash,” he pointed towards the curly haired man, “and Axl. Don’t let their bad habits rub off on you.”

Duff wondered if he was supposed to say something. Probably not. But if this was the whole crew, then he knew what he was supposed to do. Work. There would be a shitload of work to do, even on such a small vessel. With no training at all he could only be of use for heavy lifting, shifting cargo, doing grunt work. Depending on how many hours per day he had to do and how well he was fed, it could be OK or mean he was being worked to death within a couple of years. Suddenly being a brothel slave sounded almost promising. 

“And what’s … Duff…” Axl drawled the name as if he was pronouncing a newly learned word, “… doing here?”

“Whatever I tell him to do, Axl, just like you,” Izzy replied sweetly. “For now, he will go to his cabin and stay there until I have time for him. Go on, show him the way. Second room down. The one next to the showers. Lock him in.”

“Who, me?” Axl asked. 

“No, one of the twenty other slaves I own. Of course you. And when you’re done, have a go at the bathrooms.”

“What?” Axl protested. 

Duff automatically made a step backwards, clutching his bags closer to his chest. No master would allow such behaviour from a slave, not even the most benevolent one. If Izzy wasn’t raining down hail and brimstone on Axl now, he would surely meet him soon wherever it was that he was doling out punishment. 

“Your heard me, Axl. Don’t make me repeat myself. Slash, I need you on the bridge. I don’t want to be stuck in this shithole for a single hour more than absolutely necessary.”

Izzy left without another word. Slash stood up with a deep sigh. 

“Welcome to the madhouse, kid,” he said and cast Duff a wry grin. “Hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

Not sure what to reply … after all Slash was a free man… Duff just kept silent and did his best to melt into the wall. This hadn’t gone well for anybody. Izzy was likely pissed beyond means. First his crew had been caught lazing about, then his slave had openly disrespected him and to make matters worse, he was apparently running late due to the rain and buying Duff. For Duff was very much aware that he had been bought on impulse and impulse buys were often regretted fast. 

“Shit,” Axl muttered. “Come on.” The last was tossed into Duff’s direction and so he did what he had been doing since his day had turned to … yes… shit: he followed. 

They walked down yet another corridor and Duff started worrying about getting lost in this maze, once he was sent off to navigate them on his own. But it was only around one corner and they stopped in front of a door. Axl touched the panel and it opened. 

“This,” he said, “is what Interstellaria considered proper slave storage, when designing this crap piece of a ship. They call it slave quarters, but storage room fits better, don’t you think.”

Duff had to agree. He stared at the cupboard sized room that was to its entirety filled by a narrow cot. If trying very hard he might be able to stand up next to it, but turning around would be a feat. Just looking at it made him feel claustrophobic and knowing that Izzy had ordered Axl to lock him in here had him shiver. 

“Yeah,” Axl said. “Thankfully our magnanimous leader doesn’t agree with them and therefore you are going to stay here.” He touched another panel and another door slid open. They stepped in and Duff breathed a sigh of relief. The room wasn’t big either, of course it wasn’t, he wasn’t here to take a leisure cruise, but it was spacy enough, if completely bare. It wouldn’t be a problem. He had slept on the floor for months now and if it should get cold, he had his new coat. 

“You can’t open any doors yet,” Axl explained. “Izzy has to set you up for that, but all the other stuff works. Control panel’s over here.” 

His fingers moved quickly over a little screen next to the door and a cot moved out of the wall, a small closet was hidden behind a sliding panel and another one opened to a tiny cubicle with a sink. 

“Make sure everything you don’t use is locked away. It can get bumpy sometimes. I guess the network won’t let you in either, but you’ve got your own screen somewhere. For reading or movies or, you know, stuff. Not that Izzy allows us much time for recreational activities. But it’s in one of the drawers, somewhere.”

“Thank you,” Duff whispered, not sure how to address Axl. Were they equals? Most likely he was his overseer. Yes, he was another slave, but slaves could be more vicious than their masters sometimes. The training camp had been run mainly by other slaves and while one or two had been quite nice and understanding, most had been cruel beyond belief. 

“Yeah, don’t sweat it. What do those bags contain? The ashes of your mother? Or why do you clutch to them like that.”

Duff blushed and put them sheepishly on the floor. 

“You don’t talk much, huh? What did Izzy buy you for? You some whizz kid with the omnitool or what? We could use that on this ship, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“No,” Duff replied. 

He wasn’t some whizz kid with anything. He wasn’t even average with anything. On Pitraria you had to be born into the correct caste to receive proper schooling or even training on the job. 

“He bought me …” he faltered. Izzy hadn’t said explicitly what he wanted from him and there was the possibility of just being meant for hard work; but he had also stripped him and checked him out everywhere that mattered for exactly one purpose. Duff felt his face grow hot at that memory. 

“Then what … no!” Axl exclaimed when he noticed him blush. “Really? Izzy wants to fuck you?” 

“I don’t know,” Duff stammered, but had to admit that it was not unlikely. Sexual offenders were almost always sold into sexual service. It seemed proper punishment, you were doing it to others, now you’ll have it done to yourself. 

Axl snorted. “Who’d have thought. So you’re what, a rapist? Last I heard it’s rapists that are trained for this shit. You were trained for this shit, weren’t you?”

“I… suppose I was,” Duff mumbled. 

If being bent over some type of table and stuffed full of dick from front and back could be called training. It had more to do with keeping still and enduring the pain until it was over. He had indeed been quite accomplished at that, mainly because he knew they would leave him alone if he stopped struggling. 

Those who did struggle were done over and over again until they gave up. And they all gave up sooner or later, so Duff had done what had seemed prudent and given in right away. His lot of prisoners had been meant for run of the mill brothels, not for personal services that might require some type of finesse. Duff only hoped Izzy wasn’t expecting anything sophisticated. 

“So that’s what you are? A rapist?” Axl’s eyes had turned hard, just like everybody’s eyes turned hard on a sexual offender. 

Duff wanted to deny, but in the eyes of the law he was just that. And the kid had looked a little young, if he was honest, and if he had been sober, he might have asked for some sort of identification. But he had been high and drunk on top and horny and the kid had been good fun and if they had made it to a room instead of doing the deed behind the bar nothing would have happened at all. 

But as it was, the kid had claimed to have been roofied and hadn’t known what he was doing. Duff couldn’t even blame him. He would have been sent to re-education and Duff had been there himself once or twice. It was no fun. There was no way out for him, no matter what the kid admitted to, and so he had just taken the brunt and made a full confession.

“He was just two months away from majority,” Duff said nevertheless. It was no excuse, he knew that, but somehow it seemed important. “And I didn’t force him. I never would.” There was no fun in an unwilling partner. At least he thought so. Turned out a lot of people had different opinions. “But, yeah,” he conceded. “I know it’s rape.”

Axl’s expression softened somewhat, but didn’t turn quite sympathetic. “That’s bullshit. If he took your money…” 

It hadn’t been like that, but Duff shrugged. He wasn’t here to explain the failures of his life. Maybe the judge hat thought the same because the usual punishment for rape of a minor didn’t stop at slavery. It included castration as well. Yet Duff still had walked out of prison with all his body parts still where they belonged. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Izzy will be overly hard on you.”

“Thanks,” Duff replied. “For saying that.” 

And he was. It was a small consolation. Unless Izzy turned out to be the sadistic type, which he couldn’t rule out yet, he was reasonably sure that he could provide sex if he had to. 

“Is there… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Axl shrugged, but he looked a little wary. Maybe he feared Duff would ask about his own misdeeds. 

“How … how does life work here, I mean … how do you all interact? And is it really only you and …”

“Slash. Yeah, it’s just us. You mean how to get along with the gang?”

Duff nodded. 

Axl scratched his head in contemplation. “OK, first: don’t be an asshole.”

“I won’t.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say. Anyway, that’s the easy one. The second one’s a bit more trying: don’t piss off Izzy.”

“What does piss him off?” Duff asked. 

Axl grinned. “Tell me if you find out. I have compiled a few hints and ideas, but my collection is by no means complete. But one thing I do know: he’ll be pissed if I don’t go and scrub the loo. At least you don’t have to worry about shit like that. Izzy won’t want your fingers in the toilet if he intends to suck on them later in the evening.” 

He lifted his arm to touch the intercom, but then stopped and made a movement as if his shoulder had blocked. He tried again, then raised his arms over his head in an exaggerated movement, and stretched them until his bones audibly popped. His face contorted for a second, before it returned to normal as if nothing had happened. 

“You’re set here? I guess we’ll gonna fetch you for dinner. Which will be fucking late today with take-off and all.”

“I’m good,” Duff confirmed quickly. “Thank you, again. For all your help.”

He didn’t want to keep Axl any longer, not if it would tick off Izzy and definitely not after his shirt had ridden up an offered free view onto his scars. Duff knew whip marks when he saw them, most prisoners sported them in abandon. But he had never seen any on somebody’s belly. If Axl’s belly looked like that, Duff didn’t want to see his back. And he definitely didn’t want to add to them by keeping a fellow slave from doing his work. 

Axl was about to retort something, but at that moment the ship’s engine started to rumble. “I hope they cleared the kitchen,” he groaned. “Probably not. I better run or we’ll collect broken dishes off the floor soon.”

Duff got a last nod before Axl left and the door slid shut behind him. For the first time in eight months Duff was alone.


	3. Full out Compassion

Izzy relaxed into the pilot’s seat while the engine came to life. There were worse planets in the galaxy, he kept telling himself, but Pitraria was still way, way down on his shit list. It was overregulated, almost everything was punishable and sentences were draconic. Not a place for people like him. 

Slash had been pissed that he hadn’t been allowed shore leave and Izzy had half expected to find him gone upon his return. Sometimes he wished he could slap a shock collar on him, too. But, strangely enough, Slash had been there, and was even sober enough to push control buttons and levers while Izzy gently prepared his old lady for take-off. 

He gave himself a mental slap for being unfair. Slash didn’t drink that much anymore, definitely not more than Izzy put away himself, and when there was work to do, he was always sober. The early days of self-pity and maudlin sentimentality were long over. By now they were working together like well-oiled machinery, and Slash was as reliable as he could wish for. 

The XXG was an older model, ancient, if he was honest, but Izzy liked to call her a classic. She was hell to maintain and his funds weren’t enough to pamper her the way she deserved, but she was all he got and he was not yet ready to part ways. Wouldn’t be for a long time, if he was honest. He had almost built her from scratch, starting when he was still a teenager, and so far, when he had really needed her, she had been there. 

“A little more power,” he said while he tested the helm. The landing tunnel had been severed and they were ready to go. They had been parked in an uncomfortable spot, wedged into a bay that was slightly too small for easy navigation. “Half a tick, maybe.”

Slash didn’t ask what “half a tick” meant. After working as a team for years, he knew what was requested. He gave the exact amount of power and Izzy slid neatly out of their bay and into the runway. 

“Traffic’s bad today,” he said while he approached the exit in slow motions. Every other space mile they had to stop and allow someone more important to pass. Fucking Pitraria and their blasted caste system. Of course, somebody like Izzy was put on hold for each and every other ship that wanted to go out. 

Another reason he didn’t like ports. Space was vast and borderless and unbelievably empty. Most planets were just clumps of rock, hostile, inhabitable, bare. Few were suitable to set up an artificial atmosphere and even fewer boasted a natural one. 

“Can’t wait to turn our tail on this shithole.”

“We’ll be out of here soon enough,” Slash replied, relaxed as always. 

Since he had put the mishaps of his youth behind himself, very few things agitated him enough to give up on his laid-back attitude. It was the main reason why Izzy liked having him onboard. Apart from his qualities as a mechanic extraordinaire, he complemented Axl’s sense for drama in a very agreeable way. And he had come to love this blasted ship almost as much as Izzy did. 

“If you say so.” Izzy checked the controllers and adjusted the different handles and steering sticks. “She’s reacting well,” he said. 

It was an understatement. The XXG, even if designed as a transport, could lay in his hand like race ship, but only if she was maintained properly. Which she seldom was. Today, however, she was in good shape, following his commands a little more smoothly than he was used to. 

“I told you we worked off your list,” Slash said. “And we did it properly. We did deserve a break.”

“If you say so,” Izzy replied, but he smiled a little. 

“Yeah, I say so. Even Axl was being good and did as he was told. Unlike somebody else, by the way … what the hell, Izzy? What’s with the kid?”

“Duff?”

“That’s his name, you said.”

“It is.”

“If you say so.”

Izzy laughed at having his words tossed back at him. “Call him an extravagance.”

They passed the final gate and Izzy programmed their course, but didn’t switch to autopilot, yet. Without being asked, Slash upped the engine and allowed for more speed. It was the moment Izzy loved most, putting a planet into the metaphorical rear mirror and shooting off into freedom. Slash knew the deal, knew exactly when he would put the pedal to the metal and channelled just the perfect amount of energy into the accelerators. 

Izzy took a deep breath and just let it rip. The XXG made a jump and sored off into space. 

“Show off,” Slash said, but he smiled. Slash liked their sudden exits just as much as Izzy did. 

Izzy laughed, feeling almost carefree for the first time in days. Cargo was off, a new shipment onboard, supplies restocked, and the money had come through without further discussion. Sure, it was at least partly gone already, but there was enough left to see to their basic needs. 

After switching over to autopilot he leant back in his chair and swivelled it around. “Aren’t you glad we’re off planet again?”

“Would be gladder if I had set foot on planet before.”

“You didn’t miss anything.”

“Just your extravagance. Why, Izzy? How? And what the ever-loving fuck for?”

“It was the rain, Slash,” Izzy admitted. “Just the blasted rain. I had an hour to kill, and the kid was kind of dumped into my way. I like him. I think he might be fun to have around.”

“Fun? Izzy, you’re the last person who cares about ‘fun’. In fact, I’m sure that word doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

“Fuck off,” Izzy said and raised the finger into Slash’s direction. “I do have a good time now and then.”

“Yeah, when you polish the tubes down in the engine room.”

Izzy wondered if this was meant literal or as insinuation. Could be both. He did like the engine room, sometimes. 

“Really, Iz, what’s he here for? That kid’s like a spooked animal, he sure as hell won’t be fun.”

“When I bought Axl he was like a spooked animal, too.” 

“More like a rabid one,” Slash contradicted. 

“And look how well he came along.”

Slash snorted. “You mean he doesn’t bite quite so often anymore. So, is it just like that? Getting bored now that Axl is under control? Looking for a new project and he piqued your interest? What for? Except for his height I can’t see anything special.”

Izzy shrugged. “He’s got something. Can’t put my finger on exactly what. He’s doing his best to please, but I get the feeling he hasn’t really understood that this is the rest of his life and not just a phase he has to weather. He got through the training with barely a scratch, and yet he doesn’t seem broken to me. That’s kind of a feat. Axl was raw meat.”

“What was his crime?”

“Stupidity.”

“What?” Slash laughed. 

“I only had a peek at his file, but it’s just that. Got caught with his pants down is the worst I can make out of it. On every other planet he’d gotten a slap on his wrists, but as it’s Pritaria … bam … slave for life.”

“Sexual offender?” Slash looked up. 

“Nothing to worry about. Your virtue is safe with him.”

“Yeah, but will his be with you? I know what they sell them for. Explicitly.”

Izzy shrugged. 

“Iz!” Slash exclaimed. “You’re not … oh fuck, you do!”

“Get off the high horse,” Izzy snapped. “I won’t just bend him over and pounce his ass.”

“But you have plans.”

“Maybe,” Izzy agreed. “To ... ease him into it.”

“He’s a slave,” Slash almost shouted. “There is no easing into anything if he can’t say no.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “I eased Axl into his new life, I can pretty much do all the easing I want.”

“There was no easing about Axl, and you know that. You brought him to heel. And at quite a cost, I dare say. Fuck, Izzy come on…”

“Are you now disappointed in me?” Izzy asked with a mockingly raised eyebrow. 

“If I thought you had any morals I might,” Slash retorted. “But that’s an illusion I’ve never indulged in, so, you know, not disappointed. Just … dunno … surprised you’re the type.”

“Tsk,” Izzy made. “Never tagged you for being the squeamish one.” 

“Yeah, that was before this sudden reveal of secret fantasies. I thought you worked off all your needs for domination right here with us. Didn’t know you needed a slave boy to cater to your ego in bed.”

“Shut up, Slash,” Izzy said mildly. “Leave Duff and my ego to me. First and foremost, we can need another help, so all the domineering of innocent slave boys sadly has to wait.”

“He’s got experiences?” Slash asked surprised. 

“Yes, but I thought you didn’t want to talk about them anymore.”

Groaning Slash covered his eyes. 

Izzy chuckled. “Caste zero citizen, even before he was convicted. I guess he can write his name and count to a hundred and that’s about it. I never got the logic of their caste system. Seems to exist mainly to have a huge supply of unskilled workers, and with all the slaves, who needs that? Anyway, we’ll see what he can do and even if it’s nothing but domestic tasks, it means we get them off Axl and Axl gets more time to assist you.”

“Axl’s gotten pretty good,” Slash agreed. “He’s not fond of mechanics, but he knows what he’s doing. Just, do you really want Axl down in the engine room? Constantly?”

“Probably not.” Izzy scratched his head. “Which is why I want to try Duff out, at least. As a mechanic, you asshole!” he added when Slash gave him another reproachful look. “Have him tag along and do some basic scrubbing for a start. Then we’ll see how far we can get him. Keep him busy, keep his mind off his non-existing future.”

He looked up from the screen again and saw Slash watching him curiously. 

“What now?” Izzy snapped. 

“You felt pity for him.” 

Izzy snorted. “I don’t even know what that word means.”

“Yes, you do,” Slash repeated. “Full out compassion.”

It wasn’t the first time Slash had accused him of the blasted c-word. For a moment Izzy though about a retort, but quick-wittedness lived from the quick part and couldn’t be delivered half an hour later. He would think about an extra disgusting task for Slash as retaliation instead. Pity he had already assigned the toilets to Axl. 

+++

Duff stared at the clothes he had neatly stored in the cupboard. It was all he had been able to do since the door had closed behind him and he had done it with utmost perfection. He had also finally followed Izzy’s order and gotten rid of his prison clothes. It felt good to wear something normal again, firm cloth instead of flimsy fabric, sturdy boots instead of canvas slippers that had made him feel as if he was walking barefoot next to the guards in their steel capped boots. They had loved making an accidental step onto their toes.

Unfortunately, he had no idea what to do with his old clothes. Izzy had told him to throw them into the garbage, but there was no waste bin in his room. In the end he folded them neatly and put them into the bottom drawer of the cupboard. He would have to ask later.

After that there was nothing left to do. He had found the screen Axl had mentioned in the drawer next to is bed, had switched it on with the feeling of doing something forbidden, but hadn’t gotten past some strange looking logo designed out of old-fashioned weaponry with some bloodred flowers wrapped around them. 

Having time for himself should feel good, but instead it was unnerving. Maybe he should try and get some rest. Axl had said he’d probably be left alone until dinner, whatever dinner meant. Was he meant to prepare dinner? Serve dinner? Surely not eat dinner. Maybe ‘dinner’ was the local slang for orgy and he was meant to perform. 

Duff shuddered. It wouldn’t be too bad, he decided. Izzy wasn’t that bad looking, rather like he didn’t care about his looks. Or was too tired to give a fuck. Average build, a little on the slender side, untidy dark hair, moody eyes. Very moody eyes. 

Then he thought about Axl’s scars and a cold shiver ran down his spine. There was punishment and there was outright cruelty. Sure, Axl behaved reckless, suicidal even, and he yet had to see Izzy show him his place. It confirmed his former suspicion, that Izzy was one to keep a running tally and delay actual punishment to a more convenient time. It made sense. Without much of a crew he would be busy most of the day, he couldn’t deal instantly with any tiny infraction. But he would do it eventually. They all did.

Duff sat down on the bed. He hadn’t had a bed in ages. The prison on Pitraria was overcrowded and they had slept in shifts on the bare floor. The fancy cage at the slave shop had at least been more comfortable, but the creepy interior had made him feel like the inmate of a doll house. He still couldn’t say what had been worse. 

Still, suddenly having a bed reminded him on how long he hadn’t slept properly, and also that a slave should always take what creature comforts were offered. Izzy hadn’t said anything about being prepared, ready for whatever task, just that he was to stay here until there was time to deal with him. Therefore, sleeping should not be forbidden. 

In the end Duff decided to take off his boots, but stay fully dressed, in case he was suddenly roused for work. Determined to only doze a little bit he closed his eyes and within minutes he was out like a light. 

When he woke again it was to a jostling hand on his shoulder. 

“Woah, woah,” Axl made when Duff almost jumped out of bed. “Don’t panic. Just here to fetch you for dinner.”

“Am I late?” Duff asked hastily and pushed his feet into his boots. 

“Just in time,” Axl watched him bemused. “Slept well?”

“Sorry,” Duff brought out while lacing up. “Didn’t mean to. Done.” 

Axl walked him back to the kitchen, where Slash was putting plates onto the table. Apparently Axl had gotten to his rescue mission in time because it was a lot tidier than it had been before. 

Duff looked around for something to do. Serving food was most likely. Table and benches, all plain, dull metal, were screwed into the floor and didn’t look comfortable enough for an orgy. There wouldn’t even be enough room under the table to deliver a decent blow job. So, serving food it was. Only a steaming pot was already standing on the table and when he had a closer look, he noticed that Slash was laying out four (four?) plates. 

“Sit down, guys,” Slash said and dropped a handful of cutleries into the middle. 

Axl climbed over one of the benches, while Slash took some bottles out of the fridge. He tossed one into Axl’s direction, who caught it without really looking up, as if they had done this countless times. 

“You, too, kid.” Slash pointed at the seat across from himself.

Duff gingerly sorted his long legs between bench and table. The place was rather cramped and to be comfortable he would have to push the seat back at least a foot. He had just arranged himself well enough to not bump his knees against the tabletop with every movement, when Izzy entered the small kitchen. 

Duff jumped up, miscalculated, and stumbled backwards over the bench, falling flat onto his back. 

“Hey!” Axl screamed as he did his best to keep bottles from spilling and pots from overflowing.

Shocked, Duff looked up. 

“No need for formalities, kid,” Izzy said and took his place. “I thought I already told you.”

Duff scrambled to his feet. An apology lay on his tongue, but he swallowed it down. A slave might apologize for being in the way, for not jumping to an order fast enough or other minor infractions. Definitely not for almost destroying his master’s dinner. 

“Sit, Duff!” Slash said again, when he just stood there and stared. “And best stay put this time. You may have noticed, we just pretend we’re all on even footing here.”

“Except Izzy,” Axl added. “He pretends he’s God.”

Duff’s attention was immediately on Izzy. He expected him to jump up and drag Axl out by his flimsy red hair, but all he did, was show him the middle finger. At least now he knew for sure why Axl was covered in scars. He wondered where the whipping would take place and if he would hear the screams. And if he would have to clean the blood off the floor, like he often had done at the training camp. 

Sheepishly Duff sat down. It made some type of sense, of course. He had already come to the conclusion that time and resources were limited and that concessions were made to arrange life around them. Having the slaves at the same table and eat their masters’ leftovers was probably one of them. 

But that also meant: he would get proper food. Sure, one could never say how much was left at the end of the meal, but it did smell divine.

“Plates over,” Axl ordered and scooped out ladles full of something half firm, half soupy. 

He handed one to Duff who took it gingerly and looked about where to put it. Izzy, who was sitting in a right angle from him, had already pulled one towards himself and hungrily wolfed down his meal. Slash was on the opposite site, which made serving him a bit impractical. Axl was in a better position for that and, yes, he was doing it already. 

Confused Duff put the plate down in front of himself and eyed it suspiciously. When he looked up for a clue, he noticed that everybody was staring at him. Izzy, pointed the spoon into his direction. 

“I guess I do have to repeat myself after all, huh?”

“I…,” Duff stammered. He recited Izzy’s words in his head. ‘You will be diligent, amenable and grateful for what you get.’ He had meant to be all that, but things onboard this ship were handled very differently from what had been drilled into him. Was it the ‘grateful’ part? Did Izzy think he wasn’t appreciating his meal?

“We do not stand on formalities here,” he said, stressing every word. Then he sighed. “Eat, Duff.”

Slowly Duff picked up a spoon and dipped it into his food, not daring to pull it out again. This was fresh food, prepared and cooked, not processed nutrients. Slaves didn’t get fresh food. Heck, even as a free man he hadn’t eaten fresh food. It was too expensive. Getting some leftovers out of this bowl would have been a treat, but a full plate?

“All right,” Izzy tossed his own spoon onto the table and Duff flinched. “Rules. I don’t want to care about this daily shit. You’re hungry, you eat. Fresh food is rationed, but if it is put in front of you, you damn well eat it, got it? Nobody will tempt you to eat and then snatch the plate away, or punish you in any way, if you do eat what you’re given. Or eat in general. Fuck, I don't think you would even be able to eat enough to make me want to punish you.”

“Izzy,” Slash said in a cautionary tone, but Izzy talked right over him. 

“Apart from that: all the processed shit is fair game. You want some, you take some. If you don’t, you’ll go without ‘cause nobody will run after you and take care that you’re getting three square meals a day. Dinner is usually a joint venture, you cook for one, you cook for all, but that’s it. Breakfast, lunch, snacks, you just fight for yourself. Same goes for all other mundane shit like taking a shower or using the loo. You wait for permission to pee, you’ll find yourself wetting your pants more often than you like. Got it?”

“Yes,” Duff whispered. 

And he did get it. Larger groups of slaves were handled by an overseer, usually an experienced slave, but here there was only Axl. Duff had automatically expected that Axl would be in some kind of authority over him, and he likely was, but he had his own tasks to fulfil, and no time to take on an additional role as overseer. So, Duff had to just jump in and do things himself instead of waiting for orders. And for practical reasons the daily needs of slaves were not separated from those of their masters. 

He gripped his spoon more firmly and started to eat. It was easily the most delicious food he had had in a decade, but he hardly tasted anything. 

“Really, Izzy,” Axl said and Duff really, really wished that he would just once not get himself into trouble with improper talking. “What crawled up your ass?”

“Shut up, Axl,” Izzy snapped. 

“Sorry, man, but for once Axl’s right,” Slash interjected. 

“I am?” Axl asked, seemingly surprised. 

“Never thought I’d say that, but yes. Duff’s new and you can’t expect him to know just how we do things here. It’s a fuckload different from what he probably knows.”

“That’s why I told him,” Izzy said. “Several times, or so it seems.”

Duff just kept eating, as he had been told. Now they were having an argument about him. Just what he needed. Izzy was already pissed and he would be even more pissed, and what had Axl said? You never knew what pissed off Izzy and pissing off Izzy was what had to be avoided. His first day was starting just splendidly. 

“You snapped some of your half assed orders into his direction,” Slash kept on. “You always just expect everybody to know what you want, ‘cause you can’t be arsed to give clear instructions.”

“I … what?” Izzy asked back. 

“It’s true,” Axl replied through a full mouth. “You always think we can all read your mind or something.” 

“I don’t…,” Izzy exclaimed. 

“Oh, sometimes,” Slash agreed, “really, when you’re in one of your moods, and, honestly, today you are in one of your moods, it’s like pulling teeth to get proper directions out of you.”

“Yeah, just remember that one time, when we discharged the wrong cargo because you were just talking about ‘that stuff there on the right’?” 

“How often will you bring that up, Axl?” Izzy growled. “That was … what? Five years ago?” 

“Just saying, we’re used to it. And we usually distil whatever you want out of your muttering. But that takes some practice.”

Duff looked at his empty plate. He carefully put down his spoon and folded his hands in his lap. Then he collected all his courage and looked up. 

“It’s fine,” he said so softly, he was sure nobody would hear him anyway, but to his surprise he was suddenly the centre of attention. “I do get it now. Really. It was just… it’s just not what we were taught. But that’s not important, ‘cause you make the rules. I thought these rules were the same everywhere, that slaves just have to behave in a certain way, but that was stupid. They’re not. I get it now. It won’t happen again.”

“Right.” Izzy cleared his throat. “Right. Good talk, I guess. So how about … let’s eat. Want some more, Duff?”

Considering what he had just learned he nodded and when Izzy jerked his chin into the direction of the pot, he dared to ladle another portion onto his plate. 

The atmosphere shifted after that. As if yelling at each other was just part of the daily routine they now talked about the ship, about cargo, about to do lists for the next day. Nobody seemed to be cross about the earlier argument. Not even Izzy, who laughed over Axl’s crude jokes and Slash’s dry humour and very slowly Duff started to relax. Once or twice he even smiled. Yes, he knew how these things worked. Axl and Slash had defended him after his fuck up and nothing was for free. They would ask for compensation later, but that was OK. They were helping him to settle in, and he couldn’t expect them to do it out of the goodness of their hearts. 

Still, he started to think that he could have ended in a worse place. There was more food after the soup, bread and fake cheese and fruits and bottles of beer were handed out with it. They seemed to celebrate take off, and they made an effort to include him. 

Duff was careful with his alcohol consumption, but nobody said anything when he stood up and filled his glass at the sink. It had been another attempt at testing his boundaries, wondering if it was ungrateful if he rejected the beer he had been given, but, no, it was OK. He started to feel more secure in his actions now. 

When Izzy made moves to stack up empty plates Duff decided to take another risk. Maybe he was also supposed to make independent decisions regarding work and so he stood up, collected the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. To his relief nobody yelled at him and when he looked up, Axl handed him the pots to put away, too. 

“I don’t…,” he gestured towards the display. “I’m not familiar with this model.”

“Nobody born this century is familiar with this model,” Axl said. “It still runs with codes. We use 587c most of the time.” 

Duff filed the number away for later use. He would have to start a list with stuff like that. 

When he was done, he noticed that Izzy was leaning against the door frame. 

“Anything else I can do?” he asked and got something like a smile in return. 

“Come.” Izzy briefly motioned for him to follow. 

Duff swallowed, but fell in line immediately. Unsure if he was about to be punished for all his previous infractions or supposed to provide the evening entertainment, he wasn’t even sure what would be worse. He assumed from the state Axl’s skin was in, that Izzy had a heavy hand with the whip, but it was surprising how painful sex could be. 

He would soon find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axl's backstory will come eventually. And Slash's. And Izzy's. They all have one.


	4. Daily Routine

Duff followed Izzy down the corridor, until they stopped at a door only a few steps down from the kitchen.

“These are my quarters,” Izzy said. “Axl’s down the road,” he pointed to the right. “Slash’s after that.” I’d have put you here, too, but there are no rooms left. That’s why you’re in the other direction. Anyway, in case of emergency you can throw any of us out of bed at any time. No repercussions.”

To Duff’s surprise the room wasn’t much more spaceous than his own. The bed was bigger and there was a niche with a full computer terminal compared to the screen in his quarters, but that was about all. There were very few personal belongings, as if Izzy had just moved in, and in addition some pictures on the wall, mostly photographs of astronomical features. Duff recognized the horsehead nebula, but had no idea about the others. There were planets with beautifully marbled surfaces, swirling galaxies and one of a solar eclipse.

„First things first,“ Izzy interrupted him in his admiration. “Sit.” He motioned towards the bed. 

Duff plopped down and took a moment to brace himself while Izzy was busy at his terminal. It was enough time for him to school his features and make sure he didn’t look as spooked as he felt. His ass was still a little tender and while he had been fucked when it was far worth than it was now, it would take quite a bit of self-restraint to make it a pleasant experience for his master. 

He had always been good with his mouth, but during training the only body part that had mattered had been his ass. Sometimes he had sucked cock in addition to having his backside shredded, but never instead. 

Duff shooed the memories away and hoped the dread he felt would leave right with them. They wouldn’t help him here. Izzy ran things differently and so maybe he did like a good blow job, just like any normal person in the galaxy.

“So, now…,” Izzy said and sat down next to him. 

Duff sat up straight and looked him in the eye. It was another risk, but Axl never kept his eyes down, Slash had smiled at him whenever there had been accidental eye contact, and it had been made absolutely clear to him, that he had to adjust to local custom. 

Izzy had a bracelet in his hand, which he slapped around Duff’s wrist, right above his cuff. “Sorry for all the hardware, but it’s easier this way. Slave bracelets don’t have enough functions, but as it’s impossible to take them off, you’ll get another one on top. For now, this authorizes you for the domestic corridor, meaning the kitchen, the bathroom, and so on. Everything up here. You have limited access to the computer, mainly to look up stuff, the library in case you like books, movies, shit like that. If you need to go anywhere else, use the intercom to ask.”

Duff nodded. 

“For the next days, you’ll spend half a shift with either Slash or me. Depending. When you’re outside the domestic corridor, you have to stay close to one of us. Your collar will pick up on the person closest to you and you’ll get fair warning if you leave the radius. It’s not a fixed radius because it depends on the area you’re in. Anyway, you’ll feel a hum before it activates and it gives you enough time to get back into touch.”

Again, Duff nodded his head. 

“If you get lost and don’t know how to reach one of us in time, you press this button…” he picked up Duff’s wrist and pointed towards a small red button on the side, “… for about ten seconds. It will keep you from getting shocked down, but it will also lock you in place. After activating this all you can do is sit down and wait for one of us to pick you up, so make sure you have an intercom near you. It’s really just an emergency switch. I don’t expect you to need it.”

“I won’t,” Duff said quickly, getting the thinly veiled threat to not bother his masters with getting lost and stuck. 

“Yeah, you’ll never now. Ship’s not that big, but it can be quite a maze if you don’t know your way. Anyway. All schedules are in the network. You’ll find them here.” He took Duff’s wrist and activated the bracelet, then made a few swipes and pulled up a time table that listed about a myriad of duties with names attached to them. “And also in the system, if you check on the screen. Be in the kitchen at the start of your shift and one of us will pick you up. The other half you’ll be on domestic duty for now. Cleaning, cooking, that type of stuff. Axl’ll show you around. I’ll work you into the schedule later. Any problems, questions, whatever, use the intercom.”

“OK,” Duff said. “What kind of questions …”

“Any. You will never be punished for asking a question. No matter how trivial. Also, if you ever spot a problem anywhere or even if you’re not sure and just think there might be a problem, you notify one of us, no matter the time or situation. Again, you will never be punished for that, even if it turns out you were wrong. But if you keep problems to yourself or mistakes you’ve made, because of your stupid training or whatever, I will punish you. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Duff replied. “I understand.”

“Good. For a moment tonight I thought I had been wrong, and you weren’t just pretending to be stupid. Which, by the way, care to elaborate?”

Duff shrugged. “If they thought you were stupid, they would leave you alone. I guess because most of the trainers were no too bright themselves. If they got the feeling you were anywhere … dunno … cleverer than them, they would give you hell. So I figured …” he shrugged again. “It made things easier.”

Izzy chuckled. “Yeah, won’t cut it here, I’m afraid. Now that’s settled…,” he picked up a small paper bag. “I did some shopping while you were busy picking out your new and trendy summer outfit.”

Duff forced himself not to stiffen. Bags, packages, crates, things like that hardly ever held a nice surprise for a slave, especially a sex slave. At best the bag contained lube at worst something he absolutely didn’t want to have attached to his body. And as expected, Izzy pulled a couple of tubes out of it. So, lube it was. That was OK. 

“Pants off,” he ordered and Duff, who had expected the command, was already fiddling with his belt. By the time Izzy was done sorting through his supplies, he was pulling his shirt over his head. 

“Ehm … why…,” Izzy asked confused. 

“How do you want me?” Duff asked, bundling the shirt in his lap. Maybe he should have left it on? 

“Not on your knees moaning my name,” came the reply. “At least not tonight. Duff, you’re pretty torn up, and the medical services we provide are limited. Infections might not be a big deal on Pitraria, but here they are. So, I’ll get you treated and until you’re all fixed up down there, nothing’s gonna happen at all. Got it?”

“Oh,” Duff said and suddenly he felt pretty stupid again. Just because the guards hadn’t minded fucking a damaged slave didn’t mean Izzy had equally low standards. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…”

“Yeah, fine,” Izzy took the shirt out of his hands. “Don’t waste any more time, lie down and ass up.”

Confused Duff stretched out on Izzy’s bed. First, he was told there wouldn’t be sex, then he was told to lie down. He cushioned his head on his elbows, not sure what to expect. Still, he did his best to relax and managed to not flinch, when Izzy’s first hand landed on his hip. Then there was another hand, a brief squeeze on his ass and then his buttocks were carefully parted. He did wince slightly at the pull and he braced himself for worse. So, sex it was. Slash and Axl were right. It was really impossible to understand what Izzy wanted. 

“Yeah, just like I thought,” Izzy said with a sigh in his voice. “Look, all in all it’s not that horrible, but there are is one gash that looks as if it hasn’t closed in ages. And as far as I can see it goes in really deep.”

Duff knew that. The reason was simple, it had been torn open so often, he couldn’t even count anymore. Maybe it would heal now, if Izzy handled him with a bit more care. By now just taking a shit was enough to make it bleed again, so Duff couldn’t say he was overly optimistic. Maybe if he stopped eating for a month or so. 

“I’d really like to glue it.”

“With tissueglue?” Duff asked surprised. That would be nice, of course, but tissueglue was not cheap. 

“Sorry, kid, but tissueglue won’t work. Maybe the heavy duty stuff they have in medical centres, but not the shit you can just buy in a pharmacy. I guess we would have to resort to the good old fashioned histosealer.

“Histosealer?” Duff exclaimed, shocked by the mere idea. Yes, he knew it was cheap and worked a lot better, and was therefore still done, but it also hurt like pouring acid over an open wound. If it was used at all, then only during surgery, for wounds so heavy that the newer, pain free tissueglue was not enough. 

“It’s not like you can simply not use your muscles down there for the next week. It's up to you. We can try tissueglue. But it’ll tear again and the longer we wait the thicker the scars and if there’s one area where you don’t want scarring it’s up your ass.”

Duff chewed on his lip, not believing for one moment that he really had a choice. But if he was honest, almost any type of pain was worth it to get rid of the nuisance that his ass had become over the last months. 

“Ok,” he said. “Whatever you think is best.” 

“Great. Here’s how we gonna do this. I’ll gonna put some numbing cream on. That stuff works quite well. Not perfect, it’s still gonna be a bitch, I’m not gonna lie about this, but it’s all I can give you.”

“Thank you. That’s … that’s really kind.” Duff hadn’t expected to get anything against the pain at all. 

“Yeah, don’t sweat it. You’re not gonna thank me when I get to this, but, yeah, no time like the present, I guess, so … starting now.”

Duff braced himself against his arms, but all that happened was something cool being slathered onto his ass. Then Izzy started to smear the stuff around, apparently doing his best to get into every crevice there was. He had to supress another flinch when a finger entered him. That did hurt now, still bearably and not worse than whenever he had to use the loo, but enough to raise anticipations. 

“Almost there, kid,” Izzy said and pushed a little deeper. “If I’m sloppy now, it will only hurt worse later, so … there, I think that should be enough.”

He pulled out and Duff breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Takes about twenty minutes to really numb your skin.”

Duff wanted to roll over, but Izzy stopped him with a hand on the small of his back. 

“No way, you’re not ruining my handywork. Stay put,” Izzy admonished. “There, that’s my boy,” he added when Duff sank back down and patted his head as if he was a dog. 

Izzy reached past him and pulled something outside a drawer next to his bed. “As you already brought up the topic, let’s have a little chat about your … other duties onboard this ship.”

Duff jumped when something cold dripped onto his back, but again Izzy stopped him, this time with both hands on his shoulders. 

“Relax and let me do this,” he said. “Won’t be bad, promise. But sooner or later you’ll have to get used to me touching you, so I figured we’d start right away.”

“Sorry,” Duff said. He did his best to keep his anxiety down, but it was hard after being constantly up on his toes for months. 

Izzy spread more stuff over his back and when a musky scent reached his nostrils, he realized that it was massage oil. Izzy, his master, his owner, the man who could use him however he wanted, was giving him a massage. To get him used to being touched. Was he crazy? Or did he get off on shit like this? Confusing a slave until they had no idea what to anticipate next was after all a popular training method. If that was Izzy’s game, then he was successful. 

“I skimmed through your file,” Izzy said, as if it wasn’t something that had to be expected. “Being caught with one’s pants down is stupid, but it happens to the best of us. Not checking an ID is asinine, and that alone is criminal enough to warrant punishment. However, it doesn’t warrant a life in a brothel or whatever they were planning for you. So that’s not what’s on the plate. You’re not the ship’s whore, in case you were wondering.”

He had been wondering, Duff had to admit, he had simply hoped that Izzy wouldn’t be the sharing type. 

“But you had drunk, drugged, anonymous sex in an alley behind a bar. So don’t tell me you are under a vow of chastity.”

“I’m not,” Duff admitted. Not that there was much to admit. He had always been kind of a slut and it had never been a matter of shame for him. Until now. Having it spread out like that was … well … embarrassing. 

“No, you’re not.” Izzy dug his knuckles into the muscles next to his spine and Duff wanted to push right back into it. “Which is why you will now and then provide some … recreational services on top of your other duties.”

“Yes,” Duff agreed. “I know. And I’m willing and …”

“I get that you’re willing,” Izzy interrupted him. “That was clear when you got rid of all your clothes faster than I could sneeze. What I’m trying to explain here is how it’s gonna happen.”

“I’m listening,” Duff said while Izzy’s hands worked themselves downwards and were now dealing with his lower back. He wondered if he was allowed or maybe even expected to be a little more vocal about how good it felt, but decided against it. There was still this bizarre factor of it happening at all. 

“First … nothing’s gonna happen until you’re healed. I don’t get off on pain. That’s … pain’s not gonna happen.”

That should be a relief, but Duff knew that pain was relative. A slave was not supposed to show a reaction to pain, unless his master wanted him, too. So, if Izzy was not into hurting his partners, it simply meant that Duff would hide any reaction if he happened to do it. Still, it was better than the alternative, that he didn’t care or even liked to inflict agony. 

“Second, if something is really repulsive to you … you tell me. No need to get suicidal. If there’s something you really can’t stand, we don’t have to do it.”

Duff started to wonder if Izzy knew how sex with slaves worked or if he should explain it to him. Maybe it was better to leave him with his illusions. Whatever Izzy decided to inflict on him, if he needed the pretence of consent, then Duff would give it to him. There was no alternate choice, for if he could not satisfy his master, he would either be punished or, worse, sold. If one had to be a slave, being a slave at a place like this ship was far, far preferable to being a slave at most other places in the galaxy. He wouldn’t risk that. 

“Until then,” Izzy continued as if this was a normal ‘instruct the new slave’ talk, “we’ll take it slow. Get a feel for the whole thing. Get you used to me.” He finished and his hands now rested both on Duff’s ass. 

Duff was more confused than he had been before. Was he supposed to play at being Izzy’s lover? He could do that, no problem. It meant he would have to be more active and pretend more convincingly that he liked it. 

So far, his ‘official training’, if one could call it that, had consisted of keeping still and not putting up a fight, no matter what happened to him. But he had had enough unofficial practice to live up to more. Duff’s brood of siblings had been an expensive habit to keep, and so he had made good use of whatever assets he possessed. Sure, most of his paying customers had been of the ‘get me off quick and cheap’ variety, but sometimes he had been paid for a whole night of sex and the pretence of liking what he did.

The idea should be scary, but Duff grew confident. He was not that horrible in bed. He gave good head, or so he had been told, and he was not squeamish about a dick up his ass. If they were really going to wait until he was healed it shouldn’t be an issue. Izzy was easy enough on the eye, his body was in good shape and if he took a shower now and then he might be considered good looking. Yes, Duff could do this. 

“Right,” Izzy cleared his throat. “Does this hurt?” A finger was roughly shoved into his ass, but apart from the pressure, he was completely numb.

“No.”

“Good. I’ll get started then. And, sorry, but to get in I have to get you a bit more open, so…”

It did hurt like a bitch. Only one gash, but it was in a really awkward place to reach. At first, he thought it would be OK, but then the histosealer seeped through the skin and reached where it was supposed to go and that was when Duff started to reach his limits.

When Izzy was done, Duff was nauseous and hoped he was not expected to get up right away. Thankfully he got a period of grace during which Izzy slathered him in antibiotic cream and pushed something up his ass that was supposed to dissolve into more of that stuff over the day. By the time he was done, the burning had receded and the haze had cleared and Duff thought that ‘touching’ really was the least of his problems. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice still hoarse. “I … really, that was kind of you.”

Duff collected himself and stood up, careful not to soil Izzy’s bed with any of the stuff that had been slathered onto his body. Getting dressed was also a bit awkward, as his clothes stuck to pretty much every inch of skin there was. 

“You’ll be fed up with it in no time at all, ‘cause you’ll be coming back after my shift for more of it.”

“I’m coming back?” 

“The sealer should keep, but the rest of this stuff needs to go on about once per day.” Izzy cleaned his hands on a rag and put the supplies away. “Yes, you can do it yourself, I know, but I have my reasons.”

Duff was not stupid. He knew what the reasons were. Yes, this was medical treatment and he was the first to admit that he was fucking grateful to even receive it. And yet, when this was all done and over, he wouldn’t care anymore about what Izzy would push up his ass. It would just be part of the daily routine.


	5. Spaceship Mechanics for Dummies

It was morning. Far too early morning. Slash dragged himself down the corridor without opening his eyes. Izzy, that slave driver- and when had that moniker turned into an apt description anyway - had assigned him the early shift. Again. It shouldn’t matter, night and day were just an artificial construct out in space, but it still felt horribly early. 

The XXG was humming evenly, no bucking, no stuttering, for once the engine was as smooth as could be. Spending a couple days in dock did wonders for the to do lists. Slash felt a tiny bout of pride. This was his handywork. Izzy might be a decent mechanic, but Slash was an awesome one and, most of all, Izzy had no issues agreeing to that. The monotone buzz pleasantly in his ear he fumbled his way down to the kitchen.

“Coffee?” somebody asked and Slash forced his eyes open. The kid was there, looking far too bright eyed for the early hour. “Should I make breakfast?”

“Coffee – yes,” Slash rasped, not sure his brain was awake enough for so many words, “breakfast – no.” He slumped down at the table and almost instantly a mug was placed in front of him. “Thanks.” 

He tried to clear his lungs from whatever debris had gotten stuck down there and took a sip. Duff sat down on the opposite side, a mug in his own hands. Good. Looked like he was getting a bit more independent. 

“You had breakfast?” Slash asked. 

“Protein flakes,” Duff replied. “Was that OK?”

“Peachy.” Slash cleared his throat again. He still was convinced that protein flakes were technically dog food invented back a couple of centuries ago, when consumption of animals had been banned for lack of resources. 

Originally, they had even tasted like dog food, although in the meanwhile there were different types of flavour. “So…,” he took another sip and the fog in his brain cleared a little. “You’re to be my apprentice. ‘cause Izzy said so. Any experiences with mechanics?”

Duff picked nervously at his shackles. Officially they were called ‘bracelets’ of course, as everybody was wearing some type of bracelet, but as they could be clicked together or attached to slave-docks in front of public buildings, they were in Slash’s opinion just that: shackles. 

“I worked at a dirt racing track. Out in the desert. Have since I was a kid. On and off, that is. I picked up a couple of stuff there when we put the cars back together afterwards. Or tuned them up before.”

“Huh,” Slash made. “That’s not in your file. Izzy said you were untrained.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Slash gave him a curious look. 

“Ever piloted one? A dirt racer?”

“Once or twice.” Duff blushed. “When … when one of the pilots was out of action.”

“That’s not in your file either.”

“No,” Duff replied sheepishly. “No, it wouldn’t. It… it wasn’t exactly legal, you know.”

“Did it pay well?”

He got a grin for that. “Depended on how far on top I came out of the race. But it was fun. Only you can’t compare a dirt racer to a space ship.”

“No, but in the end, an engine is an engine. You’ll get the hang. Any other illegal qualities you happen to possess?”

He blushed even more. 

“Pretty much all the work I did was illegal, ‘cause I have no official training. On Pritaria you need training for everything, and you need school to receive training, and you have to belong to the appropriate caste to go to school. I didn’t. But I worked in one of the market kitchens a lot.”

Slash perked up. “You can cook? Real food, I mean?”

“Not really. I did the washing and cutting up and stuff. But I saw how they do it and I think I can repeat quite a bit.”

“Awesome. My way of cooking is throwing everything into a boiling pot of water. We didn’t have real food often where I come from, and what we got was mostly the stuff you can eat directly. Without cooking. I think Axl didn’t even know real food existed before he came here. Izzy once gave him a banana and he tried to eat it including the peeling.”

He had expected Duff to laugh at this anecdote, but Duff just looked very sober. “Axl’s always been a slave?”

“Yeah, since … well all his life, why?”

“Where’s he from? Not that it’s my business...”

“Tarui,” Slash replied. It was no secret. 

Duff looked a little ill at that. “Pitraria is full of slaves,” he explained. “Those who are in the work forces, the mines and quarries and factories, you know, they never even see real life. Most of them live on site and they never get out. They only know their cages and their working place. Nothing else. They start as kids. If you’re big enough to carry a bucket, you’re big enough to work. Tarui is just like that. Completely. The whole planet. They breed their own stock, don’t even have to buy. I’ve never seen a slave from Tarui, not in my whole life. They don’t leave. Ever. They just get used up where they are.”

From what Izzy had told him, Duff had been destined for a similar fate. Even with an interlude in a brothel he wouldn’t have stayed pretty enough for long. There weren’t many places that would take a used-up sex slave. Tarui, the mining planet as it was called, was notorious and far away, but his options wouldn’t have been much better. 

“So, I shouldn’t have made fun of him?” Slash asked with a wink. At least the kid was talking. He was picking up on local custom fast, and after yesterday’s debacle, was apparently eager to adapt.

Duff grinned, a little hesitant maybe, but definitely a grin. “You absolutely should have.” He blushed and hid his face behind a hand. Slash assumed he feared he had crossed a border. “So… anything I should start on?” he deflected quickly.

“What, you already finished your coffee?” Slash asked. “Right little ray of sunshine you are on an early morning, huh?”

Duff shrugged. “It was helpful to be up before anybody else, I suppose. You’d never know what they’d do to you while you were asleep. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

With a sigh Slash emptied his cup, grabbed a protein bar out of the cupboard and told Duff to follow. 

“We’ll start in the engine-room,” he explained. “Make sure you keep close, I think Izzy restricted your movements.”

“Yes, he told me,” Duff replied. 

“It’s just for now, I suppose.” Slash walked ahead. “Izzy’s a bit paranoid. He probably thinks you’ll sabotage the ship and blow us all up.”

If he had hoped to get another laugh out of Duff, he had been mistaken. He was just as subdued as the evening before, the light mood from the breakfast table gone. 

+++

Duff’s stomach churned as he followed Slash along the corridors. He wanted to blame the coffee – he hadn’t had any in ages – but he knew it was his stupidity that was giving him tummy aches. Making jokes about another slave with a master was a no go. For once it was disloyal, but it was also just not done. A slave should show appreciation if a master wanted to entertain him with a joke – Duff had smiled at countless stupid, tasteless, cruel jokes in prison - but never ever had he participated in the ribbing. Not even when some of them were funny by sheer accident. It just wasn’t done. There was a line between a slave and a free man and that line was not crossed. 

The problem was that Slash was neither stupid nor cruel. On the contrary. He was somebody Duff might have been friends with had they been on equal footing. They weren’t. With Axl on the other hand he was, and even if Axl should turn out to be a nasty, backstabbing piece of shit, he was still the one Duff needed to side with. It was the only way for a slave to make life halfway bearable, for nothing was worse than slaves stepping on each other while sucking up to their masters.

He had forgotten himself, worse, had forgotten his station, and that was a lapse he couldn’t afford. He knew next to nothing about his new masters. Izzy seemed reasonable, but he also set up clear boundaries. Duff was positive he would be able to navigate around him. Slash on the other hand didn’t seem to care, but that, Duff had found out the hard way, was usually an illusion. Every free man came to a point where he wouldn’t take shit from a slave, and those who had seemed the most jovial before were also the ones who flipped the worst.

So, he would not joke or try to make friends with people who couldn’t be his friend, he would do whatever was requested of him and survive. 

“This is the engine room,” Slash said after they had passed one of the multitudes of doors that separated corridors from each other. 

Duff would have recognized that on his own. A giant power generator, surrounded by an equally gigantic cooling system, sat in the middle of the room and fed energy into the various life systems of the ship. He hardly recognized any of them. If he was not totally wrong, he could make out the accelerator, but that was all. It was clear that tinkering with dirt racers wouldn’t help him making a good impression. 

“Everything is regulated via the computer,” Slash explained and went over to a huge terminal. It took up an entire wall, about a dozen screens were interspaced not only by the usual steering elements, but also switches, levers and other manually operated devices that weren’t usually used anymore. He tipped against one of the control pads and the screens came to life. “So this is where we start each shift. If something is malfunctioning, we should find it here.”

Duff watched as the ship’s vital signs flickered over the monitors. Some were displayed as curves, as pulses of light or as columns that grew and fell with the heartbeat of the engines. He listened carefully while Slash explained which function signified what, but it got confusing pretty fast. 

“There’s still a lot here you can influence manually. I like that, but it’s a bit outdated, of course.” 

Duff nodded. It’s what he had liked about the illegal racing vehicles. They had not been of the polished, fully electronical types either, but often enough built up from scratch by hand. 

“So,” Slash said in the middle of entering something into the system. “Do I need to kick Izzy’s ass?”

“Hm, sorry?” Duff asked, wondering if he had been dozing off and got the question wrong.

“He … uhm … took you to his room last night? Izzy?”

“Yes?” Duff said hesitantly. 

“And? Does he need his ass kicked? ‘cause he was spouting some phenomenal bullshit yesterday, which is why I’m wondering.”

“I … don’t think so.” Duff was racking his brain what this might be about. Was Izzy cheating on somebody? But most people didn’t consider sex with a slave cheating, just like petting a dog was not cheating. And they hadn’t even had sex, just talked about it. Maybe it was about wasting medical supplies on a slave. 

“Look…” Slash turned around to face him. “Contrary to popular belief, Izzy is a reasonable guy. It just takes a bit to get him to where he does see reason and usually, I don’t make the effort. But if you need me to, I’m happy to do it. Well, not happy, you get what I mean. I’ll do it. You’re part of the crew and we look out for each other.”

Duff didn’t get it at all, but it was not up to him to say that. 

Slash sighed, clearly unhappy with his density. “So, he did treat you all right? Yesterday?”

“Yes,” Duff said. “Yes, he did.” 

“Right.” Slash turned back to the screens. “Right, if you’re sure, then … right. So, no ass kicking required?”

“No,” Duff said. Well, maybe a bit of ass-kicking would do him good, but, OK. So far nothing had happened he couldn’t deal with. “Really not.”

Slash seemed satisfied and they returned to work. The computer generated a list of most urgent tasks, but Slash added quite a few to the bottom of it. 

“It’s always better to check manually,” he said. “Sometimes the system only gives you a warning when you’re close to an explosion.”

“Does that happen often?” Duff asked a little worried. “Being close to an explosion?”

Slash shrugged. “Now and then. Not as often as it used to. Izzy was running this ship completely on his own and that’s … that’s just not working. It’s bad enough with just me and Axl, so … any help is welcome.”

It felt good to have another purpose than the one the judicial system had envisioned for him, and so Duff threw himself into work with abandon. He was mainly doing cleaning jobs, brushing and wiping parts of machinery, burning and scratching his skin, getting oil and other fluids smeared all over himself, but Slash also took the time to explain what he was doing, running a full commentary of his proceedings in that smooth, soft spoken voice Duff started to become really, really fond of. 

“Ugh, can you help me?” Slash asked while Duff was busy scraping an inch of grime off some giant tube. “I need to reroute the pipe here and I need a second pair of hands.”

Duff put down the spatula he had been using and went over to where Slash was pulling at some huge lever. 

“Fuck, this is pretty much rusted shut. Can you… here… but careful, it’s all under pressure.”

“Like this?” Duff reached for the lever and pulled it down as far as possible. Slash was doing … whatever he needed to do and Duff felt the pressure increase. 

“Almost done,” Slash forced out only to add a long line of expletives to the statement.

“Can you hold it for a moment? I need to get a different tool to get it fully shut.”

“Yeah,” Duff replied. “No problem.”

“Right, keep both hands on the lever and don’t let go or we’ll have a giant problem.”

“I’m fine.” It wasn’t that heavy, although he needed both hands and in addition half his body weight to keep it from snapping back up. 

Slash hurried off and Duff concentrated on holding. It was about two minutes later when his collar started to hum softly against his skin. Duff’s heart made a jolt. The radius tracker. Slash was getting out of radius and he couldn’t follow him. He frantically looked around for the next intercom, but even if it was anywhere near, he had to touch it for activation and how should he do that without letting go? 

Duff’s thoughts were racing. He could not let go to call for help, but he couldn’t not call for help either because the real shock … which for unknown reasons still hadn’t fired … would surely push him off the lever and cause disaster. 

That left the emergency button. Izzy had warned him against using it, but it was the only solution. And this was an emergency. Anyway, it didn’t matter. He had no time to ponder options. He would simply have to take whatever punishment was coming his way. 

Duff twisted his wrist to look at the bracelet. He had to take off one hand to push the button, but for those few seconds he should be fine. He took one last look in hopes that Slash was coming back, but no such luck. Then he readjusted his body weight to keep the lever down, removed one hand and pushed the button. 

Ten seconds were an eternity when one was waiting to be knocked out, and Duff counted to ten at least three times before the vibrating suddenly stopped. In his relief he sacked forward and almost slipped off the handle, before clutching it with both hands again. And of course, Slash chose just that moment to come jogging around the corner. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he puffed out. “Couldn’t find the fucker.” He branded the tool in his hands. “Just a minute now.”

Duff didn’t reply. His knees were too weak and he was convinced, if he wasted energy on talking, they would just give out. When Slash had successfully shut off this part of the system, Duff peeled his fingers one by one off the lever and dropped down onto the floor.

“Wow,” Slash chuckled. “Sorry, man, was it really that hard to push down?”

“Radius,” Duff whispered. His voice was astonishingly hoarse, he noticed. 

“What?” Slash crouched down next to him. 

“Radius.” Duff pointed towards his collar. “You went out of radius and I could not follow.”

Slash blanched. “Did you get shocked?”

Duff shook his head. “Emergency button. Pressed it.”

“Good.” Slash’s expression turned into a relieved grin. “Good thinking.” He patted Duff’s shoulder. “You ready to move on or do you need a second here?”

“Can’t,” Duff said, not sure why he was still unable to talk in complete sentences. “Locked down.”

“What?” Slash asked. “Oh, right. Show me. Give me your hand.” 

Duff lifted his arm, and Slash grabbed his wrist to look at his bracelet. 

“OK, I think that works like …,” he pressed his own bracelet against Duff’s and produced a beep. “Right, that should … not authorized? What the fuck does that mean, not authorized?”

Duff chewed his lip. “Maybe only Izzy can…,”

“Yeah, genius, means just that. Right, looks like we gotta wake up our mighty leader and tell him to move his ass down here.” Slash didn’t look happy at the prospect, but he stood up and headed for the intercom.

“Wake up?” Duff squeaked. “You mean, he’s asleep?”

“Yeah,” Slash confirmed. “And he will be pissed. And it serves him right.”

“Maybe I can just wait until he wakes up on his own?” Duff hurried to say. “I mean, we really shouldn’t wake him up, shouldn’t we? It’s not an emergency.”

Slash turned around and scrutinized him as if he was some strange sort of creature he had just spotted on a lonely planet. “He won’t be up for hours. It’s not his shift. You really want to sit here until then?”

Duff nodded eagerly. “Unless you need me for something,” he added cautiously. In that case he likely would have to face Izzy’s wrath right away. 

“We’ll call him down,” Slash stated. “Now.” And with this he all but punched his hand into the intercom. “Izzy!” he yelled, far louder than was necessary. “Move your ass out of bed and come down here. Engine room 3.”

It took a moment until there was a reply, but then Duff heard Izzy’s raspy and very clearly sleep deprived voice. “Tell me somebody’s dead or we’re about to explode or both.”

“Duff had to activate the emergency button.”

“Which one?” Izzy rasped through the ether. 

“The one to his collar, you nitwit. And you didn’t authorize me to set him free.”

“So, nobody’s dead and we aren’t about to explode either?”

“No, but Duff’s sitting here in an oil puddle and is unable to move a step to the side.”

“So, not an emergency,” Izzy confirmed, just like Duff had said. 

“Izzy, you’re coming down here, you asshole,” Slash all but yelled. 

“My shift starts in … oh … five hours. See you then.” The connection went dead. 

Duff knew they should have just waited. 

“He’ll be here in a minute,” Slash said. “You want something to drink?” He held a water bottle into Duff’s face.

Duff took the bottle. “But he said…,” 

“Yeah, he likes to pretend he’s an uncaring asshole, but he actually isn’t. He’ll be down in a minute. Promise.”

Duff still would have preferred to just spend the next hours sitting where he was, but he supposed he didn’t get a say in that matter – slaves rarely ever got – and so he did the only thing he could do and drank some water. He belatedly realized that this might have been a bad idea. If Slash was wrong and he did have to spend the next five hours rooted in place, then his bladder was going to complain eventually. 

But true to the mechanic’s word the door opened with a swoosh and Izzy strode in. Naked, save for a pair of shorts, several strips of leather - some with, some without pendants attached – wrapped around various body parts, a pair of boots on his feet and, weirdest of all, sunglasses over his eyes. 

“Why am I here?” Izzy looked somehow into Duff’s direction or at least into the vicinity of it. 

“Because …,” Slash started, but he stopped when Izzy held up a hand. It was the only change in his posture. He stood as if he was about to collapse, shoulder’s slumping and holding his head as if he was suffering from a major migraine. Apart from that, Duff had to admit through all his panic, he looked good. Really good. Sleek muscles under smooth, soft looking skin, lean legs, wide shoulders and … yes, there was a ring pierced through one of his nipples. If Duff wasn’t already sitting down, he surely would be doing it now. 

“I said because…,” 

Again, Izzy raised his hand, this time with an annoyed wave to it. 

“I asked the kid,” he rasped like he was suffering from smoke poisoning. Duff was tempted to hand him the bottle. “Duff? Why did you push the freaking button?”

“Because of the lever,” Duff replied. “I had to pull down the lever and Slash went to fetch the tool and then he was suddenly out of radius and I was afraid we might explode if I got shocked and let go.”

Izzy pushed the sunglasses up into his hair and now he really looked at Duff. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles beneath them. 

“Why didn’t you holler?”

“I…,” Duff stared back, completely flabbergasted. “It didn’t occur to me.” 

Izzy nodded thoughtfully before he faced his mechanic. 

“Why did you even get out of radius?”

“Because I needed the tool. And that’s not the fucking point, the fucking point is …”

“The fucking point is that I told you to keep him close. Because of the fucking tracker. And the first thing you do is run out on him and leave him unable to follow.” 

“Yeah, but like you said, he could have yelled.”

“Slaves don’t yell,” Izzy snapped. “They get that beaten out of them pretty fast. Slaves wouldn’t even yell for help if somebody tried to cut off their limbs.”

“Axl yelled all the time,” Slash protested. “He still does.”

“Yeah, because he’s Axl and has no sense of self-preservation.” He turned back to Duff. “Somebody’s trying to cut off your limbs, you yell. In fact, next time you need help, yell. Don’t care what for. Yell. As loud as you can.”

Duff nodded violently. 

“Good.” Izzy fiddled with his bracelet, then, without ceremony, he picked up Duff’s hand and pressed their bracelets together. There was that beep again, then another beep and a third one. “I’ve switched it off. Completely. I find you roaming where you have no business roaming, you’re back on a radius so tight, you’ll be hopping on one leg to stay inside.”

“I won’t,” Duff confirmed quickly. “I wouldn’t have now either.”

“I know, kid.” Izzy absently patted his head and then he shuffled off to where he had come from. “You take an extra hour off my shift, Slash,” he called over his shoulder, provoking another string of curses from the mechanic. 

Duff didn’t listen too closely. He stared at the retreating form and tried to understand what he was seeing. Izzy’s back was a patchwork of different coloured skin, some patches as big as maybe two hands, others much, much smaller. It didn’t look smooth either, just as if somebody had ripped off the hide off his back and tried to repair it with whatever could be found at the bottom of his grandma’s old wardrobe. Somebody who didn’t know how to properly use tissueglue. 

“What happened?” Duff breathed when the door closed behind their captain. 

“Uhm, Izzy being totally hungover?” Slash extended a hand and Duff grasped it before he realized that as a slave he should have long stood up and started working. Luckily Slash wasn’t aware of that rule, either. “If I’d known he had gotten this shitfaced, yesterday, I would have left you sitting where you were, dude. I’d have felt guilty as hell, but I would have done it.”

“No, his back,” Duff added to the list of things slaves shouldn’t do, namely asking about their master’s personal affairs. 

“Oh that.” Slash scratched his head. “That was an accident. He got burned and the next planet with a proper medical station was lightyears away, so we took whatever skin grafts we could find and patched him up. And then we bought more shit from a passing trader and added that, too. And grew some out of our own skin and slapped them on because in the beginning the shit just refused to stick.” Slash looked sick at the memory. 

“Anyway, we kept him alive until we reached civilization and they could repair him properly. By then most of the grafts had grown in pretty well, and Izzy didn’t want them all taken off again to get new ones in his own skin tone. And now there’s pieces from me and from Axl and from a couple dozen unknown people living on his back. He must have gotten really drunk if he’s forgotten. Since then you don’t see him running around half naked anymore.”

Duff had more questions, lots more, for how did you burn yourself like that, but decided it wasn’t really his business. He tried to brush down his clothes a bit with his hands, but he would have to get changed when his shift with Slash ended. He was as oily and grimy as the ship and sitting in the dust had added a lovely coating to it all. 

In the end Slash seemed happy to drop the topic, too and they returned to work. It was only an hour more before Duff was handed over to Axl. They worked through the week’s laundry and roughly cleaned out the community rooms. There wasn’t only the kitchen, but also a little sitting room, complete with couches and armchairs – all firmly attached to the floor - that were buried under pillows and blankets and food wrappers and empty bottles. It was the only room beside the bridge that offered a view outside, Axl had explained. One of the walls was replaced with a huge panorama window and for Duff, who had never been out in space before, it was like a miracle to stand and look into the deep blackness that was out there. 

Another wall was taken up by a huge screen, probably for showing movies, and the speakers all around the room looked quite expensive. There were also pictures on the walls, the same type of photographs he had seen in the captain’s cabin. 

“Izzy takes them,” Axl said when he found Duff staring. “Plasters them all over the ship.”

“They’re beautiful,” Duff said. 

“Ass-kisser,” Axl said. “But, yes, they are. Just don’t tell him or he’ll put some up on the loo.”

Duff didn’t see what would have been wrong with that. 

“Can I ask you something?” he asked while he wiped down the furniture.

“Sure. Just don’t expect an answer.”

“How is punishment handled here? I mean, what for and how and…”

“Yeah, I get it,” Axl interrupted him. “Let’s see. Hm. Don’t know, really. Izzy usually tells you off and yells at you and then you get some shit job like cleaning the bathrooms. Once he made me do the piping. From the inside. That was … ugh. But it’s difficult to say, because I also have to clean the bathrooms when he’s not pissed at me, you know.”

“I mean…” Duff hesitated. It was usually not a good idea to ask another slave about his punishments, but he couldn’t make head or tail out of anything onboard this ship. “I mean when does the real punishment happen. Like … the whipping and so on.”

“Oh that,” Axl said, as if he had forgotten. “Yeah. Hate to disappoint you, but there is no whipping here. At least I never managed to push Izzy hard enough to deliver one. And, trust me, it’s not for lack of trying.”

“You mean, he’s never whipped you? Not ever?”

“Nope.”

“But your scars,” Duff blurted out.

“What?” Axl stopped cold and stared at him, his face suddenly a hostile mask. “What are you talking about?”

“Your shirt was riding up,” Duff said in a small voice. “I just happened to see them.”

“Not your fucking business,” Axl snapped. “But, for your information, that wasn’t Izzy.”

“Sorry,” Duff said. “You’re right, not my business.”

“No.” Axl looked somewhat mollified, but Duff had the feeling he would have to do some more grovelling before he was fully forgiven. But he could do that. Easily. He was the one who had fucked up. You didn’t ask another slave about his past punishments. It just wasn’t done. 

“Slash said you’d be good with cooking on your own?” Axl asked in a clear attempt to change the topic and Duff gratefully took him up on it. 

“I probably will be.” 

“Mind if I do some other shit in the meanwhile?”

“No, I think … I suppose I’ll be fine. If you show me what I can use.”

“There’s a list in the system,” Axl said. “We have lists for the tiniest shit. Izzy’s obsessed with lists. Anyway, the food list details what can be used on what day. In great detail. Absolute detail. Stick to it, Izzy gets upset if you mess up his plans on how to feed us. He can be pretty stingy, you know. Doesn’t like if he has to spend extra ‘cause we eat through the provision too fast.”

Duff nodded absently while he was already searching for the list on his bracelet. 

“Right, see you for dinner then.” Axl lifted one hand in salute and left the room. 

Duff went into the kitchen and pulled the list up onto a bigger screen there. The list was indeed detailed, but Axl had exaggerated. It only listed fresh foods, not the processed nutrients pretty much everybody Duff had ever known lived off on a daily basis. It was a splurge that they were getting real food at all, and if Slash’s anecdote about the banana had been true, then Axl knew that. 

He pulled out the things listed for dinner and looked at them, wondering how to put them together into a meal. After fucking up so royally that morning, he wanted to make something really good, no, better, something to impress and show his worth. If Izzy really didn’t punish, if Axl’s scars were the handiwork of a previous master, then this was the best place any slave could hope for, and he wanted to show his gratitude. 

Duff went to the library to search for recipes. He still had ample time until dinner, and he was determined to use it well.


	6. Slave Terror

When Izzy woke up, he was so not ready to leave his bed. Of course, he shouldn’t have gotten drunk the evening before, but every now and then – not as often anymore as it used to happen – life became a bit too much and he needed to shut off his brain. 

Now his shift had started at least an hour ago, he was barely awake, and there was this soft beep from the intercom that meant somebody was at the door to remind him to get his ass out of bed and do his duty. Axl probably. Axl liked to kick him out of bed. Slash would let him sleep in unless the ship exploded, and Duff wouldn’t dare. 

“Yeah, open sesame,” he grunted and luckily the voice recognition wasn’t a stickler for clear pronunciation. Slash and Axl always complained that he didn’t set them up either, but somehow, he liked the idea that his ship responded to his voice an no one else’s. 

Izzy didn’t bother to open his eyes, waiting for Axl’s grating voice to berate him, when suddenly he smelled … coffee. He blinked. 

“Duff?” he asked. “Whaddya doing here?”

“I brought you coffee,” Duff stated the obvious. “I figured you might need some.”

Izzy took a moment to contemplate the statement and then he agreed. He worked himself up onto his elbows and reached for the mug. 

“Sit,” he mumbled into the hot beverage and patted the mattress with his free hand. 

Duff sat down and watched patiently while Izzy swallowed sip after sip. It was hot and so strong it would kick a horse out of bed.

“Looks like you’re worth the money I spent on you, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Duff took the empty mug and placed it onto the nightstand. 

“Who sent you? Axl or Slash?” Izzy dropped back onto the pillow. 

“Slash,” Duff replied. “He said you wouldn’t want to sleep through your shift.”

Izzy chuckled. “That coward. So, they sent you into the lion’s den all on your own.”

“I suppose it’s some rite of passage,” Duff replied. “In all honesty, I expected you to chuck the coffee into my face.”

“I wouldn’t waste good coffee. Come here.” Izzy held out his arm. “I need another moment.”

“You mean…,” 

“I mean lie down with me. Nothing more.”

Duff obeyed. He was a little stiff, and he was far too tall to fit comfortably against Izzy, but in the end, they arranged their limbs around each other. Izzy smelled clean skin and hair, which was a nice change from the overly perfumed whores he usually frequented in the ports. It took more than just a moment, but eventually Duff relaxed. Izzy carded a hand through his hair while soft breaths tickled the skin at his neck. Duff stretched a little, moving his legs in the process and rubbing against his crotch. Izzy felt himself grow hard. 

“Keep doing that and face the consequences,” he sighed, not really meaning it. It just felt … nice, he supposed

Duff lifted his head. Izzy let his hand travel down to his cheek and rubbed a thumb over his lips. Hesitantly, as if not sure whether it was the right thing to do, Duff first nibbled at his finger, then sucked it in. 

“Duff,” Izzy growled, not so mellow anymore. He pulled his hand away. “Stop that!”

“What?” Duff asked with fake innocence. “This?” He brought his knee up higher and Izzy closed his eyes as the pressure on his dick increased. 

“I mean what I say,” Izzy repeated. “Don’t start what you’re not willing to finish.”

“Who says I’m not willing,” Duff replied, and then he was moving downwards, hands sliding over Izzy’s sides until they tucked at his waistband. He got a short reprieve, a moment to decide if he really wanted to deny himself this pleasure, but Izzy was only human, and so just lifted his hips and in one smooth movement Duff pulled off his shorts. 

Whatever Izzy had expected, a quick handjob maybe or some more dry humping, this wasn’t it. After the briefest stroke with his fingers, Duff unceremoniously, sucked him down. 

Izzy gasped and for a moment his mind went blank. Duff was apparently determined to make him lose his mind. His tongue seemed to be everywhere. He knew when to suck and when to let go a little, only to dive down with more determination a second later. Izzy had no intention to last long and he didn’t. He came fast and hard and slumped back into the pillows. 

“Dumbass,” he said softly when Duff sat back, licking his lips. “Come up here.” 

Duff complied and Izzy kissed his cum-smeared mouth before settling him back onto his chest. 

“What was that, huh?” he asked. 

“It’s called a blowjob,” Duff mumbled against his skin. 

“Got that, smartass. But now? When I’m so hungover that I can’t make it good for you? I had plans, you know. They included the words long and leisurely, if I remember correctly. Did you have to ruin that?”

“I wanted to do something for you,” Duff said. “And this seemed to make sense.”

Izzy chuckled. He was pleased to notice that Duff was at least semi-hard himself. 

“Way to show me, kid. Come on, let me at least take care of you.”

He reached for Duff’s cock, but Duff pulled away. 

“You don’t have to…, I mean, I think I’d like that. What you said.”

“Huh?” They would have to talk about communicating in full sentences, Izzy decided. 

“Yeah, about that long and leisurely stuff. I’d like that. For the first time, I mean.”

Izzy snorted. “Pretty sure we’re past the first time.”

“You, yes, me, no. I still have a chance. So… OK?”

“Sure,” Izzy conceded. He was not that dead set on jerking Duff off, if he was willing to accept a rain check. He stretched his arms over his head until the tension in his shoulders eased, and sat up. He had wasted enough time already. He rolled over Duff to get out of bed and fished his shorts off the floor. Then he remembered his back and pulled a t-shirt over his head. 

Izzy wasn’t a vain person and his scarred skin didn’t bother him all that much. He would have shilled the cash to have it redone if that was the case. But having people look at it or asking questions brought up memories he preferred to push away. Covering himself was the best way to avoid that. 

“As you’re already here, let’s have a look at your ass.” He motioned for the kid to roll over. 

Duff wriggled out of his pants and lay down. Izzy just did a short check and applied some more ointment. The numbing cream seemed to do its job, as Duff didn’t even flinch this time. In fact, he wasn’t tense either and Izzy wondered why he was suddenly so trusting. 

+++

Duff left in a state of almost giddiness. When he had entered Izzy’s cabin he had been scared out of his mind and yet, he had done it. He had been bold and brash and totally not how a slave was supposed to be. Getting a chance to push in a blowjob for good measure? He hadn’t expected that. But despite being close to a heart attack he had acted at the spur of the moment, had pretended to be all cool and confident and Izzy had been too hungover to notice his nervousness. Next time would even be better because he would really be cool and confident. Or closer to it, at least. 

Now, if only dinner worked out just as he planned, then he might finally be securing his position within the crew. He was an impulse buy, he reminded himself firmly, something people thought they liked, played a few times with, and got rid of when it didn’t live up to their expectations. And here lay the crux of the matter. He could do meek and obedient if he absolutely had to, but Izzy expected a certain proactivity. That was the difficult factor, for one could never be sure when proactivity led to appreciation and when it led to doom. 

Luckily dinner was already fully prepped and not likely to turn into disaster. He hadn’t planned to do more than deliver a cup of coffee to Izzy, had fully expected to be yelled at and thrown out and be back in the kitchen within a minute, not cuddle for … ugh… it had almost taken half an hour. He had to hurry. 

Figuring out the settings on the food preparer took a while and when he punched in the code, he crossed his fingers it wouldn’t burn everything to charcoal. But it turned out to be his lucky day, and just when Axl entered the kitchen, he pulled the steaming hot dish out and put it onto the table. 

“Smells … weird,” Axl said and helped him setting out plates and cutlery. “And looks … horrible. You sure you know how to cook? What is it? And what’s that ugly, brown stuff on top of it?”

“It’s called lasagne,” Duff said. At least it was close to the recipe for ‘lasagne’, an old-fashioned dish from Earth, their mother planet, as it was still called, although he didn’t know anybody who had ever been there. If Earth was indeed their mother, she was a rather distant parent. 

The original dish had been made with meat and real milk cheese, but nobody ate meat anymore. There weren’t enough resources in the whole galaxy to feed food to animals and then turn the animals into food. Why that had made sense once upon a time was beyond him, but apparently it had. The cheese wasn’t real cheese either, of course. Another strange concept. Why adults would want to drink milk … from animals on top of that …well, he’d rather not think too much about that. 

Although there was a market for milk harvested from slaves, a side hustle for the baby market. When the babies were sold, breeders could make some additional money with selling the milk for as long as it would flow. But it was so expensive, only the superrich could afford it. In addition, it was considered such a weird kink that nobody would ever admit that he was doing it. 

These days everything was made from plant fats and proteins and Duff had no idea if it made any difference. Probably. But nobody would know. He had to swap a couple other ingredients, simply because they didn’t have them or because they weren’t on the list, and was now hoping for the best. Having never eaten much real food in his life, it was difficult to say what such an exchange would do to the taste. 

He didn’t have time to fret though, because Izzy and Slash joined them. Duff stared for a moment, for Izzy’s hair looked … wet somehow, like he had been walking in the rain. 

Still looking kind of grumpy despite coffee and blowjob, Izzy pulled the dish towards himself and looked up in surprise. 

“Did you make this?” he asked. 

Duff nodded nervously. 

“Gratinated cheese?”

“Yes,” Duff said hesitantly. “That’s what the recipe wanted.” 

And they had prepared it like that in the market kitchen, too. He had always loved the smell and sometimes he had managed to scratch some leftovers out of the dishes. It had been delicious. Or so he had thought. Maybe it was a Pitrarian thing and not done on other planets. 

“That’s …,” Slash picked up a little snipped of melted cheese and sniffed. Then he tasted carefully, as if he was about to be poisoned. 

“Stop that bullshit, that’s awesome,” Izzy said. “Gratinated cheese is the best. I just didn’t know our food preparer could do that.”

“That’s because you’re never cooking,” Axl said, although five minutes ago he had still complained about the disgustingness of it all. 

“Yep,” Slash interjected after he had swallowed the little piece of molten cheese. “That’s really awesome. Who’d have thought that destroying totally edible food can make such a difference.”

Duff’s shoulders sank in relief. “So it’s OK?” he asked.

“Go on, find out!” Slash pushed the spoon into his direction and soon after, they were all tucking in. 

He had tried a little bit before, of course, to make sure it didn’t taste horribly, but that had just been tiny licks here and there and not of the whole composition. Now, that it all came together on the plate, Duff felt a surge of pride. 

Dinner was light-hearted after that, there was chatter and laughter, and Duff got the feeling that he had grown at least an inch. The last months had been so heavy on his shoulders, he had ducked his head both literally and figuratively. Trying to not raise attention was difficult when one was half a head taller than everybody else and so he had slouched and held back and pulled himself together without even noticing what he was doing. 

He had tried doing the same here, of course, although it was impossible to hide inside such a small group, but now, for the first time in ages, he was relaxed enough to sit straight, to look people in the eye, to laugh when somebody made a silly joke. He felt like a person again when he hadn’t even been aware, that he had stopped doing so. 

Slash leant back eventually, folding his hands over his belly with a content burp. Izzy pushed his plate away and Axl started to collect the dirty dishes. Duff just wanted to get up and help, when Axl suddenly froze in mid-movement. He just stood there, the casserole dish in his hands and stared into the air. The others noticed at the same time, and just when Duff wanted to crack a joke about it, he noticed the tension that vapoured across the room. 

“Axl,” Izzy said. “Axl, put that down.” 

He stood up, movements slow and deliberate and non-threatening. 

“Axl,” he repeated and stepped carefully around the table, around Slash who sat rooted in his spot, not moving, not breathing, as if the slightest twitch might cause an explosion. 

“Come on, Axl, you’re good.” Izzy had reached him now. With the same calculated motions, he took the dish out of his hands and put it back onto the table. “Look at me, man,” he said and gently, as if dealing with a scared, but potentially dangerous animal, he touched Axl’s check. 

Axl blinked and then he looked up as if awakening out of trance. 

“I’m good,” he said, his voice a little rough. “I’m good.”

“Ok,” Izzy replied. “Wanna come to the bridge with me?”

“Yeah,” Axl nodded. “Sure.” 

He still seemed confused, his movements were a little dithery, and he even flinched when Izzy put an arm around his shoulder.

“Ok. Lots of work to do, so we’ll better get going.” Izzy steered him out of the kitchen like one might steer an injured soldier through a minefield, and if Duff was staring after them, which he probably shouldn’t, there was nothing he could really do to stop himself. 

“What…,” he asked, then thought better of it and closed his mouth. 

“Yeah, guess that leaves the dishes to us, huh?” Slash said. “Care for a beer afterwards? We can watch a movie.”

“What … oh, yes, of course,” Duff stuttered. But he understood a hint when he got one, and so they cleared the table before retreating to the sitting room. 

Slash picked some inane movie that included space battles, weird alien creatures and lots and lots of explosions. It was just the right movie, loud enough to not be able to talk above and very little plot, which left Duff with enough time to think about what he had just seen. 

It didn’t make sense, not even after two hours of exploding battle ships. So Axl had frozen. That happened. Duff had seen it in slaves before, although not to that extend. Usually they stood there trembling, sometimes sobbing, and unable to get whatever had triggered them out of their heads. Masters didn’t like that, so maybe Axl had learned to just keep absolutely still. If that was even possible. 

Only things just refused to add up. Duff had grown up around slaves, not because anybody of his friends, family, neighbours could afford one, but because the jobs open to his caste were the same type people bought slaves for. He knew how they reacted, he knew how subdued, cowed, terrified they were. Slave terror was a regular occurrence and it just didn’t look like this. 

Axl had stood as if somebody had flicked a switch, not as if something had triggered and terrified him. And it had clearly not been the first time. Izzy’s actions and also Slash’s reaction had been clear enough. They knew what had happened and they knew how to defuse the situation. And the situation had needed defusing, that was evident. 

“Slash?” he finally asked. 

“Yeah?” Slash gave him a tired look. 

Duff chewed his lip, not sure how to ask without being slapped down. 

“Is there … if it happens again, is there…,”

“Something you can do? Not really.” Slash’s look grew even more uncomfortable. “All right,” he then seemed to come to a decision, “I guess you need to know at least enough to handle it. When it happens again.”

‘When’ not ‘if’. 

“Axl is … I mean…,” he wiped his curls back and Duff could see more than just the patches of his face he usually showed. “He sometimes gets these … rages.”

“Rages?” Duff gasped. 

Slaves didn’t get rages. Never. He had once seen a slave get into a rage in the middle of a busy street in Roan. He had first been felled by the collar and then the owner had pulled the killing function without as much as a blink. The whole street had smelled like burned meat. Those who weren’t killed went to the mines. No exception. So, no, slaves didn’t get rages. 

“Yeah,” Slash confirmed the impossible. “They used to be really bad, but … well, it’s pretty much under control. Hey, don’t look like that. You don’t have to worry, really, he’s not gonna come into a room and attack you, I mean, yes, he gets violent, but not at people. Well, unless you get in the way which is why … don’t get into the way. Just call Izzy.”

“Aggressive slaves are sent to the mines,” Duff said softly. 

If Axl got like that, there was no way even Izzy would put up with him for long. He shouldn’t care about a slave he had only known for a day, but Duff had never been able to not feel protective of the other slaves around him. 

“Yeah, I suppose,” Slash said. “It’s where Izzy got Axl. The mines on Tarui. Remember?”

“Yes,” Duff said. “And he knew Axl was like … that? And he still bought him?”

“Yeah, ‘bought’ is a bit much. We were delivering spare parts for the titanium mines, and Izzy went down to finish the transaction. When he came back, he had Axl in tow. He had flipped once too many and they had been about to put him down. So, Izzy got him for a case of Pitrarian ale. Honestly, at first, I thought we should have kept the ale, but as you see, it worked out. Sooooo, don’t worry, OK? Izzy is really good at handling Axl. If something like that happens, I mean, if Axl freezes like that or starts doing really weird shit, like … dunno … anyway, if he gets like that, call Izzy. Right away. Or me, I guess, in case you can’t get to Izzy, but Izzy is better. If there’s one person who knows how to take Axl, it’s Izzy.”

“Is…,” Duff hesitated again. “Is Axl being punished now?” It was impossible that Axl should not be punished. Even if Izzy had just been elevated to hero-status in his opinion, for nobody took on a raging slave just to spare him the death sentence, he would still have to punish Axl. And a slave who got rages so bad it would warrant death on Tarui, where the working conditions were disastrous, the atmosphere toxic, and life pretty much only happened below ground, a slave like that would call it mercy if he was only beaten up a bit. 

“What? No, of course not,” Slash replied quickly. “What for? He only froze. And even if he does destroy shit… it’s not really Axl’s fault. He doesn’t do it on purpose. He … he can’t help it, OK? It’s nothing personal. Got it?”

Duff nodded, although he did not get it. But one thing he did get, if it hadn’t been obvious before. There was no master like Izzy. Not in the whole wide universe. And he would bring him coffee and suck him off and do whatever he could to keep him happy.

+++

Axl was almost himself when they reached the bridge. His eyes were focussed again, he moved normally and he answered questions. All signs that he had gotten a grip on himself. He would still be a liability for a while and keeping him close was the best way to make sure nothing vital got destroyed in a fit of rage. 

“Do me a favour and boot the system,” Izzy said, while he did a quick check of the monitors that were fed from the engine room. 

Slash had done a good job, everything was running as smoothly as the ship could manage on a decent day, and there was nothing engine-wise he needed to take care of during his shift. It was a relief. He was not really up for physical work today. His hangover had subsided, but traces of a headache still lingered at the corners of his brain, plus he didn’t want to leave Axl alone. He also didn’t feel like taking up with Slash’s bitching in case he called him away from his after-work beer, and sent him down to solve some minor problems. Slash had lived through enough Axl-incidents to know they were considered emergencies, but he also valued his free time. 

In the meanwhile, Axl had occupied the pilot seat and woken the navigational system from its hibernation.

“Looks good,” he said. “Position just as you entered.”

“Awesome. Wanna speed up a little?”

“Sure.” 

Handling the acceleration of the XXG was not as trivial as it sounded. Slash and Izzy had tuned up the engine until it was as receptive, but also as fidgety, as a dirt racer. It wasn’t noticeable for as long as the ship ran on autopilot, but whenever she was switched to manual, she could be a bit capricious. 

It had taken Axl a while to get a feeling for it, but he had gotten quite good at piloting. Good enough to trust him with the ship should it be necessary. Izzy still made him do manoeuvres every couple of days, so it was not overly obvious that this time he was just keeping him occupied. 

Axl’s handling was a bit clumsy at the moment and he had difficulties to find the right balance. 

“Sorry, I’m shit today,” he finally said. It came over dejected, apologetic, not the way Axl usually sounded. 

“We’re all shit sometimes,” Izzy replied. “Let me take over.”

“You don’t have to be so nice,” Axl said when he made room. “I’m not going to flip.”

“You sure?” Izzy took the seat and checked the settings. 

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Izzy let it go for the moment. “Come on, let’s work some on your navigational skills.” He opened a star map on the screen. 

Axl came over to look. There wasn’t much room next to the pilot’s seat and Axl had to squeeze himself in between Izzy and the wall. At first, he leaned on the arm rest while Izzy talked about constellations, of stars, planet and moons, of gravitation and distances, orbits and ellipses and anything else that came to his mind. 

Eventually Axl grew tired of standing and sat on the floor. He leant against Izzy’s leg, eyes on the screen, listening attentively. Axl had never had the chance to learn much except the religious diatribe the mining slaves on Tarui were fed to keep them from rebelling, and right from the beginning he had soaked up knowledge like a sponge. It had been impossible for Izzy to not start and teach him. 

While he talked and talked, he gently put a hand on Axl’s neck. Axl was tense as a bowstring and Izzy automatically started to rub his muscles. Axl had been through every punishment imaginable and his body had suffered some permanent damage. Joints didn’t always work as they should and muscles and sinews complained on a regular basis. 

Usually Axl wasn’t keen on being touched, but when he was vulnerable like this, physical contact sometimes helped. Today he was amenable, oddly soft under all the tension that rippled through his body, and Izzy got the feeling that his touch was comforting to him. 

He moved upwards a little, laying his hand on Axl’s head, checking for a reaction, before he started to rub his thumb in circles over his scalp. 

Axl sighed and let his head rest against Izzy’s knee. Izzy kept the movement on, dipping under the ever-present bandana now and then and marvelling once more about how silky Axl’s hair was. Axl was beautiful in general, but his hair was awesome. The brittle, dull, short cropped stubbles from days past had turned shiny red, smooth, and down past his shoulders. 

“You sure you don’t need treatment, Axl?” he finally interrupted his narrations. 

“No,” Axl said, but not as vehemently as he usually rejected the suggestion. “Not yet.”

Well, that was at least an honest answer. 

“I trust you to tell me when you’re getting close,” Izzy said. 

“You shouldn’t,” Axl replied without lifting his head from Izzy’s knee. “Trust me, I mean.” He was trying to keep his voice neutral, Izzy could tell, but the familiar sound of self-hatred had crept back in. 

“Pity,” he said. “Because I do.”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

Izzy’s lips twitched. “Probably,” he agreed. 

Only an idiot would have taken Axl onboard, so he couldn’t argue against the insult.

“Can we talk about something else?” Axl asked. “I’ll let you know. I promise. But … I’d rather not think about it.”

Izzy nodded his agreement and resumed his tutoring. It wasn’t a real lesson today, just pieces of information interspersed by stories and anecdotes and eventually, after he was sure he would be hoarse for a week after all this talking, Axl fully relaxed against him.


	7. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

The next weeks passed without any further incidents. Duff did not get locked up anywhere. Izzy declared him healed and Duff breathed a sigh of relief that he was spared further treatments. Axl didn’t have any strange episodes. Slash and Izzy didn’t yell at each other, probably because they were hardly ever in the same space. 

Duff settled into his routine. He got up in the morning and had coffee ready for Slash. Then he followed him around the ship and learned whatever Slash bothered to teach him about spaceship mechanics. Afterwards he was handed over to Axl to assist him with cleaning and cooking. 

Izzy got used to being woken up with a cup of coffee, but there was no repeat of the activities they had engaged in after Duff’s first attempt. In fact, Izzy didn’t have much time for him at all. They had dinner together and then Izzy vanished to the bridge or the engine room or checked on the cargo or did whatever it was he had to do. 

To his surprise Duff realized that it left him disappointed. It was impossible for him to really relax when Izzy was around, but at the same time he had started to crave his attentions. A rare smile from Izzy made his day, a praise left him elevated for hours, until Axl was laughing at him and called him teacher’s pet. It was embarrassing. 

Duff knew this happened to slaves sometimes, especially if they had a good master. And he did have a good master. There was even a word for it, but he had forgotten. It was considered a valuable trait in a slave, but he had always felt pity for those who suffered from it. Now he was one of them himself.

He consoled himself with feeble excuses. For example, while he was kept busy, there was not much distraction onboard a ship and making Izzy happy was just as good a hobby as anything else. Only making him happy was difficult if he was hardly ever seeing him. They only way he could think of was cooking. He dived into the library and fell in love with a recipe collection called “From Earth, with Love – Traditional Dishes with a Modern Twist”

He even got Axl on board with cooking elaborate meals, and they bonded over chili, split pea soup and mashed potatoes. And, of course, about both being slaves. 

“I wish we had more of all these herbs and spices,” Duff said when they were cutting up their last fresh peppers for something called ‘pizza’. 

They would have to do with frozen afterwards, but even frozen was so, so much better than processed.

“It’s amazing as it is, but imagine how it must taste if we could add some of this … this … oregano or thyme,” he spelled the strange words carefully. 

There was a whole chapter about spices originally used in these dishes. 

“Just think about it, growing so many different plants without any nutritional value, just for the flavour. Makes you dizzy to think about all that extravagance.”

“Might ruin it for good,” Axl replied. Axl was very careful when it came to new flavours, but even he was getting more adventurous. “But I like their names.”

Duff fought with a non-opening twist off jar of tomatoes. He had fallen in love with tomatoes, even if they were down to the canned version, and if there was a chance to add them to anything, he would. 

Axl took the jar out of his hands and opened it with just a slight flick of his wrist. 

“You know, sometimes you make me question my masculinity.”

He poured the content into a bowl and added instaspice. They had five different flavours, but if he was honest, they all tasted the same. They really needed herbs. If they still existed somewhere. 

“What do you mean you like their names?”

Axl shrugged. “They’re beautiful. You could make a song out of them.”

“What? Like ‘gimme some of your oregano, baby’,” he sang slightly off key and got into a fit of giggles. “’cause if you do, I might just give you my chive.”

“Yeah or like this,” Axl said and then he sang “parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,” in such a perfect voice that Duff stopped in the middle of stirring the sauce, the spoon he had used held dripping over the counter. 

“Wow,” he said. “Do that again.”

“What?” Axl asked, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Sing.” 

“About herbs?”

“About whatever. Just … sing something. Please.”

Axl snorted, clearly trying to hide his embarrassment, but then he sang one of the songs Slash liked to play on the sound system in the sitting room. His voice was a little scratchy, similar to the way he talked, but when he reached the higher spheres, it was suddenly all clear and brilliant and he hit the notes with a precision that left Duff speechless. 

“Wow,” he repeated. “That’s some real talent you’ve got.”

“It’s just a glitch.” Axl returned to cutting something called an onion. It was new to Duff, but they had lots of onions. Apparently, they stored well. And tasted great. And for whatever reason made you cry when you cut them.

“A glitch?” Duff protested. “Sorry, I’m not an expert for music, but I’d call that talent.”

“Yeah, only the likes of me don’t have talents, right? We have features. And this wasn’t meant to be one of my features, so it’s a glitch.”

“What do you mean?” Duff asked confused. “Because you were born a slave? That still means you get to have talents.”

Axl tossed the knife onto the counter in exasperation. “Oh, fuck you, Duff, not because I’m a slave. Because I’m not a natural, OK? We get designed, we get made, we have features. Talent is natural, something you get by sheer luck. Features were planned and installed.”

“You’re not a natural?” Duff asked. 

Axl froze. “You didn’t know? Nobody told you? Not Izzy, not Slash?”

Duff shook his head. 

“Right,” Axl muttered. “Sorry you’re stuck with doing menial shit with me, I guess.” 

He picked up the knife and hacked at the onion until Duff feared for his fingers. 

“I’m not,” Duff said. “Sorry, I mean. I like doing menial shit with you. And I’d still say you’ve got talent. Don’t care what they programmed into you or if they call it a glitch. Like you said, talent is what you get by sheer luck. So that’s what you got. Talent.”

Axl didn’t reply, just used the knife with even more vengeance, until Duff wondered if he was driving himself into one of those rages and it was up to him to prevent the impending destruction of the ship. 

Instead of calling Izzy though, he started to sing another one of Slash’s everplaying songs, not as well as Axl did … well … far from as well as Axl did, if he was honest, but who cared? He just kept singing and eventually, after butchering the poor onion into tiny pieces, Axl joined in, hesitantly at first, but then louder, confident, brilliant. 

“Don’t you want to know what kind of artificial I am?” he asked when they were both a little out of breath. 

“Sure,” Duff said. “But it makes no difference, so if you don’t wanna tell, that’s fine. I’m not telling you my whole childhood sob story either.”

“Assemblee,” Axl said. “Just so you know.”

“Cool,” Duff replied, and returned to working as if it was no big deal, but for a second, he had to swallow down his revulsion. He did it though, thoroughly in fact, and was confident that nothing had shown. And then he berated himself for being a prejudiced asshole. 

He had never much thought about artificials. There were androids on Pitraria, they were everywhere after all, but all the other types, the hybrids, cyborgs and bionics blended in too well to spot them right away. 

Assemblees were called second line artificials and not present in the public. Pitraria even had a ban on them as they were considered ethically questionable. When slaves died, usually very young children, babies or toddler, whatever of their body parts was still usable, was cobbled together and shocked back to life. They were not considered humans although they did in fact consist of nothing but human parts and pieces. Sometimes they were enhanced in certain ways, which technically made them into cyborgs, but as long as they were assembled, they were put into that category. Cyborgs prided themselves of being human first and foremost. 

Duff wanted to ask if Axl had any additional features, but as the topic was apparently a touchy one, he didn’t feel like pushing his luck. He did seem a bit stronger than the average person sometimes, but apart from that, he just didn’t differ from a regular human. 

Building assemblees was only practiced on far off, fully industrialized planets, those that needed lots of workers, had a high death count and couldn’t afford to waste resources. Otherwhile just breeding slaves was a lot more economical and less cringe-worthy. Most people were simply squicked out by them and if Duff was honest, he was, too. Which was his problem, not Axl’s, and he would get over it. Right now. 

Not only their bodies, also their brains were manipulated and rearranged to suit the tasks expected from them, so Axl’s intelligence was unusual and probably unplanned, too. Duff was sure his whole personality would have been considered a ‘glitch’. In fact, somebody had really botched up the job. He should be a dumb, docile, easy to handle working tool, when he was in fact … well … Axl. 

“You’re still my friend,” Duff said when they pushed the sheet pan into the often. “Just so you know.”

+++

Buying Duff had been an impulse. Buying Axl had been an impulse, too, but with Duff, Izzy’s gut feeling had been dead on. Duff was good for the ship, and, which was almost more important, Duff was good for Axl. If Izzy had guessed that getting a second slave would do the trick, he would have done it ages ago. It was a miracle in its own right, but Axl liked Duff. 

How that had happened Izzy couldn’t say, but he heard them laugh together and … even odder … sing in the kitchen while cooking. Izzy had never heard Axl sing and while Duff’s slightly offkey, but not at all bad renditions of Slash’s favourite songs were funny, Axl’s singing was awesome and grew bolder and better from day to day. They stopped whenever he or Slash entered, as if it was something private they were doing, and so Izzy sometimes just stood outside in the corridor and listened. He had spotted Slash doing the same. 

Then there was the food. Duff didn’t only cook, Duff picked recipes that made him oddly nostalgic. The dishes reminded him of his childhood. It was what the old folks in his clan had cooked, dishes with traditions as long as the stories they liked to tell. And Axl was tagging along. Axl, who during the first months had refused to eat anything that wasn’t processed to the last molecule, who had choked and spit when tasting real food for the first time, sure he was being poisoned. 

So, Izzy had stepped back and left Duff to Axl. At least for a while. He didn’t mind sharing his toys. 

This evening they we sitting around the table, sharing another beer and Izzy couldn’t help but grin when he took the first bite. Chili. Hot, peppery with almost more onions than fake meat. 

“Awesome, guys,” he said. “Really.”

Duff smiled happily and if he looked closely, there was a faint blush to Axl’s skin. He tried to hide it, but Axl always got off on praise. 

“So,” he continued through mouths full of beans and sauce. “We made good headway so far.”

“Yeah, it’s all going so smooth, I’m waiting for disaster any day,” Slash threw in. 

“That’s because you’ve done a really good job in keeping her up,” Izzy said. 

“Huh,” Slash made. “Got into the happy pills? Or what is it with you and that generous mood you’re in? Dish out anymore praise and you’ll run out of your supply for the rest of the trip.”

“Just bestowing praise where praise is due,” Izzy replied lightly. 

It was true, he wasn’t one to praise much. He didn’t consider it to be praise-worthy if somebody was doing the job he was paid to do. But he did feel generous, simply because they were well along to their next stop, and nothing had happened that would push them off their schedule or produce ridiculous extra costs as it usually did. 

“What I’m saying is, we can switch to one shift system.”

“Oh, thank God,” Slash groaned and let his head almost drop into his food. 

“You got the day shift, what have you got to complain?” Izzy asked a little miffed. 

“Means I had to get up early every day,” Slash replied. 

“Means you got to sleep without having Duff and Axl make a ruckus,” Izzy shot back. 

“We didn’t …,” Duff stuttered. “Did we?”

“Yes, you did,” Slash and Izzy said in unison. 

“Especially when you started to add those drum solos on the pots,” Slash added. 

“Oh,” Duff said. 

“Yeah,” Izzy confirmed. “Oh. Really, it’ll be easier if we’re all on the same shift.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “We’ll start today.”

“You only got up,” Slash laughed.

“Yeah, and I’ll go right back to bed.”

“No, you won’t,” Slash protested. “We’ll celebrate.”

“No binge drinking,” Izzy said and gave Slash a warning glance. Not when Axl was close to a fit. 

Slash rolled his eyes, but his expression made clear that he understood. “Spoilsport,” he said nevertheless. “Movie night, then. Non-alcoholic. I get to pick.”

“You picked last time!” Axl protested. “I get to pick.”

“You always pick longwinded megaheavy movies with far too much plot and meaning,” Slash exclaimed. “Nobody wants to see that.”

“And you pick movies that leave you deaf from all the explosions.”

“Still better than…”  
“Children!” Izzy yelled. “Shut up! If you fight, none of you gets to choose.”

“Spoilsport,” Slash repeated. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

“OK.” Axl held up his hand. “On three.” 

In the end Axl got to choose, but only because he cheated. Izzy didn’t mind Axl’s taste in movies now and then, but Slash was right, he did have a tendency towards the heavier stuff. This time however, he surprised everybody and picked some popular superhero movie he apparently hadn’t known existed. 

“Duff told me about it,” he muttered, when asked. “It sounded interesting.”

“We should make popcorn,” Duff suddenly said into the discussion, as if that sentence actually made some sense. 

“We should make what?” Izzy asked. 

“Popcorn was a popular movie food on Earth in the olden times,” he explained. “I read that. It sounded fun to make. I wanted to do it for ages. And doesn’t take much. Just corn kernels and oil and a pot. We have those. For corn meal, you know. You throw them into the oil and they go ‘pop’. The recipe called it a ‘funny and entertaining process’.”

Izzy shrugged. “If you want to. Let’s make ‘popcorn’.”

He was all for new experiences, but what should be interesting about watching half a pound of corn kernels simmering in oil was beyond him. Nevertheless, they all stood around the food preparer and stared into the open pot. The recipe called for a big pot, although the kernels didn’t cover much more than the bottom, and so they had to use the open heater instead of the covered one. 

He changed his mind when the first kernels exploded and settled down as lumpy, white nuggets, not because it was so funny, but because Axl had jumped and screeched as it happened. Izzy started to laugh and Axl pushed him hard into his ribs. 

“Asshole,” he muttered, which made Slash laugh, too. 

But soon they were all screeching because all of a sudden hundreds of kernels decided to explode at the same time. Corn was flying out of the pot, hitting them in the face, falling onto the counter, the floor, everywhere. The sheer mass of it left Izzy speechless, it was beyond him how what had basically been a hand full of yellow little nubs should turn into a downpour of soft, fluffy lumps. 

Duff scrambled for a lid, threw out half a dozen pots in order to find one and then he heroically fought his way to the eye of the hurricane and covered the pot. The ‘pop pop pop’ was still audible as the corn was now catapulted against the lid and for a moment, they all stood shellshocked and listened, waiting for the pot to explode. 

Then Axl suddenly started to giggle. He pointed into Slash’s direction, and when Izzy followed his finger, he had to snicker, too. Yes, they were all covered in popcorn, but Slash’s curly hair had worked like a net. He looked like he had gotten into a snow storm. It was enough to make Axl break down laughing on the kitchen floor. Izzy joined in, until he was wiping tears out of his eyes.

“I’m not eating that,” Axl gasped, when Duff tried guiltily to pick popcorn off Slash’s head, and they all broke into a new round of laughter. 

In the end there was enough popcorn left in the pot for all of them. Duff had volunteered to clean up the mess, but they had all helped. This was ‘crew evening’ after all. 

When they were finally assembled in the sitting room, watching the movie and eating the strangely tasteless popcorn (according to Duff it had to be flavoured somehow, but after the disaster they had decided to eat it as it was), Izzy watched his team and the rare harmony they were displaying. 

Yes, they fought a lot, they yelled at each other, insulted each other and were in general a bunch of misbehaved morons, but when they were like this, they were awesome. And they were his.

Axl, charismatic, malfunctioning, intelligent beyond what should be possible for an artificial, unique despite coming from an assembling line, folded up in an armchair that was not made for folding up. 

Duff, tense as he was most of the time, in ill-fitting clothes, kind hearted and reckless, legs in the way of pretty much everybody, whether he tried to stretch them out or hang them over the armrest of the couch he was sharing with Izzy. 

Slash, sprawled completely over the other couch, still with single pieces of popcorn in his hair and a bounty on his head that would keep the XXG in fuel and spares for at least a year. And, sure, Izzy had to add himself to the mix, a clan-less space gipsy who had given up his self-imposed solitude to collect this weird little family around himself. 

As the evening advanced, Duff finally settled. He was still not fully relaxed around them all, but he was making progress. Izzy watched him unobtrusively for a while, when eventually Duff noticed and looked up. Izzy gave him a smirk and a wink and returned his attention to the movie. Duff grew tense again afterwards, his former easiness somewhat subdued for a while, until he relaxed again and slouched deeper into the upholstery. He stretched out his legs and parted them a little, leaving himself open to further advances. 

Izzy contemplated the situation for a moment and then decided to take him up on it. He shifted a little bit put his feet up on the table and let his legs fall apart until their knees touched. Duff didn’t pull away, like he normally did whenever he got into his or Slash’s way. Duff didn’t behave fully like a slave anymore, but he did differentiate between free and not free members of the crew. 

With deliberate slowness, Izzy reached across Duff’s body for one of the disgustingly sweet drinks Axl was so fond of, and which they had downed all evening instead of alcohol. 

Slash cocked an eyebrow. “Smooth, man,” he mouthed, but spared the public any further comments. 

Izzy sat back, his knee still bumping against Duff. He opened the bottle and took a drag, then let his arm sink down and rest lightly against Duff’s side. Duff blushed and moved a little into his direction, closing what gap was still there. He didn’t look at Izzy though, kept his eyes glued to the screen. The tension came off and on in waves, but eventually, when Izzy didn’t make any further advances, he settled. Willing, but not exactly eager. Izzy could work with that. 

When the movie was over, Slash exaggeratedly stretched his arms over his head and faked a yawn. 

“I think I’ll go to bed,” he said. “You coming, Axl?” 

Axl wrinkled his nose, playing with the bottle in his hands. “What, to your bed? I don’t think so, man.” 

Slash rolled his eyes. “No, your own bed, stupid. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, for you maybe. Not the sleepy type, remember?” 

Axl didn’t need much sleep, not more than two or three hours a day. 

“Maybe you’d be a bit more relaxed if you weren’t up all night, every night.”

“I’m relaxed enough, asshole,” Axl chucked the empty bottle at Slash, who caught it easily out of the air. 

“How about we hit the gym, then?” 

The gym wasn’t exactly a gym. It was a tiny storage room that contained a treadmill and some weight lifting equipment. The treadmill was connected to a virtual reality system, that would let the user run through whatever scenery they wanted. Long space trips could lend to a certain claustrophobia and when that happened, Izzy put on his running shoes and ran it off. 

“The gym? A minute ago you wanted to go to bed. And anyway, there isn’t even enough room for two people. 

“We could leave the door open.”

Axl didn’t reply to that. He just looked at Slash with a curious, slightly worried expression. 

“Basketball? I put the hoop up in storage room 3.”

“Give it up, dude,” Izzy said. He didn’t need his men to be discreet on his behalf. He stood up and extended a hand into Duff’s direction. “Coming, Duff?”

Duff nodded nervously. He wiped his hands on his thighs, then took Izzy’s hand and stood up. Izzy didn’t let go afterwards, just pulled him closer and gave the others a nod. 

“See you tomorrow, guys.”

Axl did get it now. There was a crease between his eyebrows, one Izzy knew very well, and he even paled a little bit. Izzy gave Slash a warning glance and made a miniscule move of the head into Axl’s direction. Slash gave an equally tiny nod. He would put Axl on his knee and explain about the flowers and the bees, and that not everybody freaked out at the idea of being touched. 

“Chief?” Slash said softly, “You may be my captain, but remember, you’re not above some serious ass kicking.” 

Izzy didn’t deign to response. He just smirked, pulled Duff after him and down the corridor to his cabin.


	8. Motivation and Initiative

To say Duff was nervous when the cabin door closed behind them, was an understatement. Yes, he knew what was coming, yes, he had been prepared … or thought he had been prepared…, yes, yes, and yes, but when Izzy had suddenly ceased all innuendo and sexual advances for over two weeks, he had been convinced, he had lost interest. And he hadn’t been sad about it. Izzy was his captain, his master, no matter how much he didn’t like to be called by that title, and things like that always ended badly for the slave. 

“Ground rules,” Izzy said and kicked off his shoes. He motioned towards the bed, and Duff wondered if he was supposed to sit down or strip naked and present on all fours. He opted for sitting. It was the right thing, for Izzy just sat down next to him, pulling his feet up onto the bed and under himself. 

“You can say ‘no’. That’s important. I do something you don’t like, you say ‘no’. You can say ‘no’ ten times in a row, if you want. Fuck, you can give me a big ‘no’ now and we’ll never talk about this ever again.” 

There was an abrupt stop in Izzy’s voice, as if he had said something he hadn’t meant to say. 

Duff gave him a confused look. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled. 

Izzy sighed and wiped his hair back. “I’m saying I want your consent. I know it’s phony, you can’t really say ‘no’ and you can’t really say ‘yes’, but for the record, I’d like to have it.” He looked uncomfortable, like he didn’t like this discussion and clearly didn’t want to have it, so why were they talking about it? There was only one answer Duff could give, and they both knew it. 

“You do,” he said. “Have my consent, I mean.”

“Ok,” Izzy said. “Guess this’ll have to do. Anyway, the other part stands. You don’t like something, you tell me.”

“Sure.”

“Yeah, like hell you will.” Izzy sighed, as if this was all some major ordeal. “So, two: you can participate. Or rather: do participate. I want a blow-up doll, I’ll buy one. Show some motivation. Initiate stuff you’d like to try. Like when you gave me that blow job? That was good. You can’t go wrong there. I don’t like something, I’ll let you know.”

“OK,” Duff said. 

He didn’t have any doubts that Izzy would let him know if he did wrong, the question was, which form would this letting know take? He was rather confident that there weren’t going to be heavy consequences. But sex was somehow a delicate matter, and waiting for a slap would kill the mood. Which, for most masters, wasn’t an issue, but Izzy wanted him to show some enjoyment. He could do that, he was sure he could, but not if he was feeling apprehensive. 

“Good,” Izzy straightened up a bit. “Guess we can start then.”

Duff nodded and waited for his prompt. Then he remembered. Motivation. Initiative. This weird lecture had not been helpful to get him into the mood, and he was reasonably sure that Izzy would object to a limp dick as sign for his undying passion. So, getting in the mood had to be his first goal. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and pushed any talk about consent and yes and no out of his mind. Or tried to. It didn’t work. The way to arousal was to shut off his brain and his brain refused to be shut off. In fact, it was turning into overdrive. 

He had just come to the conclusion that getting rid of some clothes might be a good idea, when he heard Izzy’s soft chuckle. 

“Don’t get a knot into your white matter,” he said, a lot closer to his ear than he had expected. “Here, let me help you.”

Duff opened his eyes just when Izzy took his face into both hands. He gave him a moment to adjust, rubbed his thumbs over his cheekbones, before he slowly leant in and kissed him. Duff opened his mouth, giving access, but not much was coming. Izzy nibbled at his lips and, yes, there was a little tongue now and then, but nothing invasive or overwhelming. 

It was still enough to make his heartbeat speed up. This was different from that blowjob from weeks past. There Izzy had been hungover, languid, passive and Duff had been in control of what he was doing. Now Izzy was awake and calling the shots. Yes, he was starting slow, but he might any moment lose his patience and dive in.

“How’s this?” Izzy asked, letting his lips wander downward do Duff’s neck. “Ok?”

“Yes,” Duff whispered. Participation, he reminded himself, and laid his hands onto Izzy’s chest, sliding them down to his waist, wondering if he should go further or not yet. 

“Good,” Izzy approved and his hands settled on Duff’s shoulders. He pushed a little and Duff yielded, finding himself on his back with Izzy half on top of him. “

You can touch wherever you want,” he whispered while he opened the buttons of Duff’s flannel shirt. He wore another t-shirt underneath, but instead of getting rid of it, Izzy just pushed his hand under the fabric. 

“I like your skin,” he said, while massaging his belly, his sides and then slid up to his nipples. Duff expected the usual pinching and pulling, but Izzy just brushed a thump over the first one, then the other, before he returned to rubbing his muscles. 

Duff realized that he had stilled for the moment, when he was supposed to show enthusiasm. He pushed his feet against the mattress and opened his legs wide enough, that Izzy could get between them. Then he slipped his own hands under Izzy’s shirt. He felt the rough skin on his back, and Izzy startled. 

“Sorry,” Duff whispered and pulled back. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Izzy replied. “No, it’s OK. I just … Oh fuck.” He sat back on his haunches and pulled his shirt over his head. “They don’t hurt anymore. And you can touch.”

Duff worked himself up enough to pull off his own shirt, but as he was still lying halfway on his back, he was getting tangled and needed Izzy’s help to free himself. 

“I had planned for a better performance,” he said with a lopsided grin after dropping back into the pillows. 

Izzy grinned back. “I like your performance,” he said, laying his hands onto Duff’s pecs. 

“I like yours,” Duff replied, hoping it was the correct answer. 

“Oh, just wait.” Izzy bent down again to nuzzle at his neck, pushing his tongue under Duff’s collar every now and then. “I haven’t even started yet.”

Izzy rocked his hips against him as he resumed his explorations. For a moment Duff was unsure what to do with his hands, but then he laid them again onto Izzy’s back. He ignored the imperfections, just felt for the muscles under the rough skin. He reached up for Izzy’s shoulders, turned over to his chest and tucked gently at the ring that pierced his nipple. Izzy groaned and almost collapsed on top of him and suddenly Duff’s pants, baggy as they were, felt too tight. 

“Pants,” he whispered, and Izzy nodded. It was another embarrassing performance, but then they were naked, except for Izzy’s leather bracelets and Duff’s shackles, and just back to what they had been doing before. Izzy still kept his hands above the waistline, which was ridiculous given that they were rubbing their cocks against each other. 

Izzy lowered himself down on one elbow, their bodies now touching over their full length. Duff felt his breathing constrict just a tiny bit under the pressure, and suddenly he felt a surge of claustrophobia. Yes, he was bigger than Izzy, he could probably throw him off if he needed, but knowing just as well that he was not allowed to do it, caused panic to flare up.

It wouldn’t do, Duff decided. If he gave in to irrational fears, it would ruin his performance for good. Collecting all his courage he wrapped his arms tightly around Izzy’s body and rolled them over in one swift movement. He grabbed Izzy’s wrists, pushed them down and held them in place for a second. Noticing what he had just done, he let go as if he had been burned.

“Umph,” Izzy made.

For an instant, Duff panicked for real, expected a fist to his face or at least a rough shove, but when he sat back, Izzy lay totally relaxed below him, and looked up from unreadable eyes. 

“That’s how you like it?” he asked and that insufferable smirk was back. 

“Yeah,” Duff said. 

It wasn’t really true. He didn’t mind being on the bottom, not at all. Usually he was the bigger partner and with the types of one-night-stands he was fond of, his lovers often felt safer when they could be on top. Heck, he had been arrested while that kid had had his dick up his ass, not the other way round. But here, with Izzy, it was different. Yes, he was taller, stronger probably, but Izzy held all the power, and this … this just felt like he had a tiny little bit of power himself. 

“Then go on,” Izzy said. “Show me what you like.” 

If Duff had thought that this was some kind of surrender, then he had been wrong. Even pinned down on his back, Izzy effortlessly held the reins. Oh yes, he submitted to whatever Duff was doing to him, allowed him to kiss him, lick him, rub against him, but that’s just what it was: permission to play. 

It didn’t matter. Duff worked off his energy while Izzy stabilized him with his hands on his hips. Then he moved them down and started massaging his cheeks, parting them, dipping into the crack and when Duff heard the lid of a bottle snap, he almost laughed. As nervous as he had been, this part left him completely unfazed. Izzy’s previous plan was working. 

Even when he had been injured and through the pain of the first days, Izzy had always been gentle. He wouldn’t hurt him now. He felt a finger search for his hole, push lightly against the entrance and then stop. Duff stopped, too, waiting for the breach, which didn’t come. For a moment he was confused, but then he realized that he was given a choice. 

“Do I really have to do all the work here?” he muttered and then moved backwards against Izzy’s hand and made him enter. 

“Not all,” Izzy wriggled his finger a little. “I’m happy to assist.”

Duff groaned and let his forehead sink against Izzy’s chest. 

“Good?” Izzy asked and pushed deeper. 

“Yeah,” Duff said. “Keep doing that and I’ll right here and now.”

Izzy did keep doing that. 

“Come on, give me something,” he whispered and worked a second finger in while his other hand slipped between their bodies and wrapped around his cock. “Show me what you need.”

Duff knew what he needed. He needed release. He hadn’t even felt a regular need to jack off since his stint in prison. Six months of rape had made sure of that, and even though he hadn’t really dreaded sex with Izzy, he hadn’t looked forward to it either. 

This, however, this was good. He had expected to either lie back and be taken or, preferably, being allowed to actively service with his hands and mouth. He hadn’t expected to work for his own pleasure. In fact, whatever the scenario, his own pleasure hadn’t played a role at all. So why was he suddenly caring more about his own cock than the one he should be taking care of?

There was one hand around his dick and two fingers in his ass and he was rocking between both, completely lost about what felt better. 

“I … I …,” he stammered, and then he knew what he wanted. “Get your fingers out of me,” he choked before he realized what he was doing, and to his surprise, Izzy complied at once. 

Duff grabbed Izzy’s wrists and pushed them back down over his head, somehow needing him to be still for just a moment. Izzy complied, not straining against his hold, not even when Duff leant down on his hands to pin them in place. 

“Don’t move,” he ordered and transferred both wrists to one hand. 

“What do you want, Duff?” Izzy whispered. 

“I want…,” Duff swallowed. Did he really have to spell it out? No, he decided. He would just show him. He found Izzy’s cock, hard and leaking and without preamble he aligned him with his hole and pushed backwards. 

It was … a bit much, he had to admit, not because Izzy was overly big, but because he was still too tense to really let go. He froze for a moment, trying to adjust and to his relief, Izzy didn’t push for action. Duff let go of his hands and nearly bent himself in half. He rested his head on Izzy’s chest, and almost started to sob, when he felt Izzy’s hand in his hair. 

“All good,” Izzy whispered. “All good. Take your time.”

Duff didn’t know how long it took him to find composure, while Izzy petted him and mumbled endearments into his ear, but eventually he knew he was ready. He took Izzy’s hand and moved it back to his dick and then he started to rock. Small movements at first, just a tiny bit of stimulation from both ends, getting a feel for it. 

“Good boy,” Izzy praised, and, fuck, when had Izzy’s praise started to be a turn on for him? “Come on, Duff, take what you need.” 

That was easier said than done, but after a while Duff found a rhythm and Izzy adapted. How he could keep so calm through all this was a miracle, but Izzy didn’t push him, didn’t urge him, just held him, met him, when he pushed back and rewarded him with a soft squeeze, when he moved forward into his fist. 

“I need to come,” Duff gasped, when the pressure inside him built up unbearably. “Right now.”

“Then come,” Izzy encouraged him. 

“I’ll come all over you,” he warned, pretty sure that was not on the agenda, but Izzy only snorted. 

“Then do it. Come all over me, Duff.”

And Duff did just that. He came and collapsed and when he tried to roll off to the side, Izzy caught him and pressed him to his chest.

“Fuck,” Duff groaned, when he realized that Izzy’s dick was still inside him, still hard and that he really should do something about it, for shouldn’t have Izzy’s dick been his priority instead of his own?

“In a minute,” Izzy whispered and then, in a mirroring of Duff’s earlier movement, he rolled them over. 

Duff yelped at the short burst of pain in his ass. It was over immediately and Izzy was towering over him, only this time he made sure to keep a bit of space between them. He bent down on one elbow, his face only inches away from Duff, and ran a hand through the sticky smear that had built up between them. He tried to say something, do something, whatever, but Izzy just pressed his lips onto his mouth before he moved over to his ear. 

“Hush, sugar,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ll do you good and proper now, OK?”

Duff nodded, too exhausted for anything else. He let his legs fall fully open and slumped back, spent and boneless. Izzy started with slow, rocking movements. It was almost soothing and Duff just went with the flow. He opened his mouth when Izzy started kissing him, met his tongue with his own, enjoying the friction of his spent dick rubbing against Izzy’s belly now and then, and … he couldn’t believe it, but he was growing hard again. 

Izzy didn’t speed up, just kept going slow and steady and concentrating more on bringing Duff back to full erection than taking care of his own. Eventually the movement inside his ass lost its comforting touch and became annoying. It was too slow to be satisfying, too calm to get him anywhere, and finally Duff decided he was done with teasing. 

“Fuck me already,” he gasped. 

“That’s what I’m doing,” Izzy replied, not changing his rhythm in the least. 

Duff reached for Izzy’s hips, dug his fingers into the flesh there and squeezed his ass shut, finally causing Izzy do lose a bit of his cool. He groaned and faltered a little in his steadiness, but not enough, Duff thought. He bent one leg at the knee and forced Izzy to shift, changing the angle and jarring his dick inside him. 

“Bastard,” Izzy choked. 

“Fuck me,” Duff growled. “Hard, fast, deep. Now.”

“Can you repeat that?” Izzy brought out, but Duff only hooked his leg behind Izzy, then grabbed his hips and pulled him forward. 

“I can show you,” he threatened, and finally, finally Izzy complied. Duff felt him slide deep inside, less rhythmic than before and falling out of sync with his now equally irregular breathing. Duff didn’t let go off Izzy’s hips, just made sure he didn’t start slacking again. Izzy was getting close, he could feel it in his movements and Duff reached for his own cock to jerk himself off again. He managed to come a second time, a feeble shadow of the first orgasm, but enough to tighten up again and pull Izzy over the brink with himself. 

“Wow,” Duff said after Izzy had rolled off him and lay panting on his back. “Just … wow.”

“Yeah,” Izzy replied, still a little out of breath. “I didn’t believe you had it in you, man. And to think that Slash wanted to kick my ass.” He giggled and Duff almost felt for his pulse. Izzy didn’t giggle. He sneered, smirked, chuckled, but he didn’t giggle. Not ever. “He should be kicking yours.”

Duff sobered immediately. “Was I too …uhm?” he asked hesitantly. Fuck, he knew he should have been more submissive, definitely not throw Izzy on his back and force himself onto him. 

“You were perfect, baby,” Izzy soothed him. He pulled him down and kissed him roughly. Duff only hoped he wasn’t up for another round because he was sure, his ass was back to being sore. “Not what I had planned for you, but you surprised me. And that’s good.”

“You were good, too,” Duff said, hesitant if he was expected to say something. Did a slave praise his master for his sexual performance? But, man, Izzy had stamina. If that was a regular occurrence, he would have to nick the numbing cream out of his bathroom. “Do we … dunno … clean up?” 

Izzy sighed contently. “We probably should. Or we’ll be glued together tomorrow.”

“I sleep here?” Duff asked. 

“No.” Izzy stroked his cheek, smiling almost lovingly. “But you can come and shower first.” 

Izzy stood up and extended his hand. Duff took it, and Izzy led him into the small bathroom that was attached to the Captain’s cabin. It was a bit more spacy than the tiny cubicle at Duff’s cabin and the shower in the corner looked a bit strange. There were weird additional contraptions at the wall that Duff didn’t recognize. Izzy programmed something into the wall panel and then Duff yelped in surprise. Water. There were actual waterjets in the shower, a big one on top and about a dozen let into the walls. 

“You’ve got a water shower!” he exclaimed. “I’ve never seen one in all my life.”

“Then it’s about time you try,” Izzy replied. “You earned yourself a treat, I guess. I don’t use it often. It’s too wasteful. But now and then we can indulge. Like today. Come on.” 

Izzy stepped under the spray and Duff carefully followed. He made a step backward when hot water hit him, but Izzy just grabbed his arm and pulled him in 

“Ugh,” Duff made and tried to keep his head out of the water. 

“Just close your eyes and get directly under the spray. Yeah, like that,” he said when Duff obeyed. “And now relax and enjoy it.”

Duff wasn’t sure he could enjoy this. Water was drumming onto his head, running over his face, getting into his eyes, his ears, his nose. It was annoying. But after a few moments he started to get why there was such a rave about water showers. 

“Good?” Izzy asked very close to him. 

“Yeah,” Duff replied. “Yeah, I think it’s … good.” 

And it was. He got used to the temperature and there was something unbelievably relaxing about the hot water on his body and the steam everywhere around him. It was totally different from the way the supersonic shower knocked off the dirt. 

Izzy’s hands were back on his shoulders and Duff leant into him. “There’s a different kind of soap you use with a water shower. Here.” 

He held a bottle in his hand and Duff opened it curiously. It smelled spicy, similar to the massage oil Izzy had once used on him. 

“You rub that into your hair and then you rinse it out,” Izzy explained. “No, not like that!” he yelped, when Duff was holding the bottle over his head. “Here, let me.”

He retook the soap and squeezed a little bit into his hand. 

“See, that’s enough. It’s like it is with popcorn, a little bit goes a long while.”

Duff snickered.

“Down, you freaking giant,” Izzy ordered when he reached up for his hair, and Duff obediently laid his head on Izzy’s shoulder. 

“That’s a bit of an awkward angle, sugar,” Izzy complained. 

“Don’t care,” Duff muttered. “’s comfortable.” 

And it was. The hot water on his back, Izzy’s slick body so close to him, he would just stay like this and fall asleep. 

Izzy snorted, but he didn’t make him move. Instead he started to rub the soap into Duff’s hair, spreading it roughly over his head at first, before tuning down into a gentle massage of his scalp. 

Duff groaned. It felt fucking awesome. If he weren’t so thoroughly spent, he’d get hard just from having his head manhandled. 

“Now, up and rinse,” Izzy ordered, pushing him away far too early. “We can’t stand here all night, the ship doesn’t have that much water.”

It was a valid argument and Duff straightened. The soap burned when it ran into his eyes, but the feeling of his hair all wet and smooth was something else. 

“Can I do yours?” he asked, suddenly wanting to know if Izzy’s hair would feel just as nice. 

“Sure.” Izzy handed him the bottle and turned around. 

Duff startled again at the sight of Izzy’s back. He should be used to it after all their fucking, but they had mostly been facing each other and the light here in the bathroom did nothing to hide the damage. He forced his look upwards to Izzy’s dark head. It was shiny and wet and Duff did his best to copy Izzy’s earlier ministrations. He didn’t think he’d used too much soap, but it still foamed like crazy under his fingers when he worked it into Izzy’s hair. 

“Good?” he asked. 

“Keep doing that and I’ll have you right here in the shower,” Izzy growled. 

Feeling a little smug, Duff continued his task. There was definitely too much soap and he used the overflowing foam to wash down Izzy’s whole body. Izzy didn’t seem to mind. When Duff was down to his hip, he widened his stance in a clear invitation, and Duff reached around him and between his legs. 

“You’re not even hard, how do you want to have me?” he asked.

“There are ways,” Izzy muttered, and then, when Duff stood again, he leant back into his chest and Duff wrapped his arms around him. “Done?”

“I think so.”

“Pity.” Izzy slipped out of the embrace. “Let’s be responsible, and put an end to this waste of perfectly good water.”

Having action follow his words, Izzy shut off the shower. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for the water to cool on his skin and Duff started to shiver. 

“Towels,” Izzy said and tossed one at Duff. 

It was a bit awkward, especially as he did not have much experience in drying his hair, but he was determined to not be shown again like a little child. Still, Izzy snickered, when he was done, and when Duff cast him a questioning look, he wiped his own towel over the misted mirror and pointed at Duff’s reflection. OK, there was reason to snicker. His hair was a mess on top of his head. 

“Brush’s in the drawer,” Izzy said. 

It was a fight. Brushing wet hair was easier than brushing windswept hair after a dirt race in the desert, but still sucked. Maybe he shouldn’t have rubbed quite so excessively while drying it. In the meanwhile, Izzy had halfway sorted through his own mop and was busy putting on underwear. 

“Where’s the cream?” Duff asked, when he looked again at Izzy’s back. 

“Which cream?” Izzy asked back over his shoulder. 

“For your scars. To soften them.” There had to be some. Nobody with burns like that would do without. “I can put it on.”

“I can do it myself,” Izzy replied. 

Duff chewed his lip. 

“Stop staring!” Izzy snapped and turned around. 

“You’re not reaching the middle of your back properly,” Duff said. “I could feel it. The skin is a lot rougher there.”

“Ah yeah?” Izzy hissed. “Sorry if it bothered you.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Duff shot back. “That’s something Axl would say, but not you. Stop being a baby and give me the fucking cream. I’m here, I’ll do your back, period.”

Izzy was taken aback and Duff wondered if he would now be put into his place. He had known proactivity was a tricky concept. He should have stuck with meek and submissive. 

“You’re really getting off on being bossy, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little bit,” Duff conceded. “I guess it helps with not feeling totally like …,” he motioned at his collar. 

“In the other drawer,” Izzy said. “Make it quick.”

Duff would have liked to do it properly, maybe even the way Izzy had taken care of his wounds, with lots of gentleness and additional touching, but he didn’t push it. He did it quick and perfunctory, just as requested.

“You will probably hate me for saying this, but you might really benefit from having this done more regular and more … uhm … in depth,” he said nevertheless. 

“What do you know about burns, huh?” Izzy cast him a mildly amused glance. 

“More than you’d think.”

Duff wondered where he had left his clothes. Somewhere next to the bed, probably. He left the bathroom, looking for them. 

“Dirt track races, remember? People got hurt an awful lot and a lot of the pilots had burns. So there was lots of discussion about how to keep the skin smooth and how to make sure it still stretches properly.” 

He didn’t say it, but he was pretty sure Izzy was having problems with elasticity in a few areas. 

“You need somebody to do it for you, if you can’t reach all areas properly. It’s not just about smothering the skin in this shit, you have to really work it in.” 

“Duff!” Izzy’s voice obtained a warning tone. 

Duff nodded and closed his mouth. “Just offering,” he then had to add, which made Izzy sigh in exasperation. 

“Right. Just going to shut you up, when you don’t manage yourself.”

Duff did manage. He dressed quietly, but before he left, he couldn’t help it anymore. 

“Thanks,” he said. “Really.”

“What, for fucking you?” Izzy asked. 

“No,” Duff replied. “For buying me.”


	9. Vigil

Axl was awake, just as pretty much always. His brain, malfunctioning as it was, couldn’t shut off for more than two or three hours at a time. Even on a normal day it preferred running on overdrive, but tonight it was ten times worse. Sometimes it was nice to not get tired, but other times he wished he could just close his eyes and sleep and forget for a while. Like today. 

Instead he sat in the kitchen and drank tea, while listening to the muted sounds he could hear from Izzy’s cabin around the corner. Soft groans, moans, a yelp now and then. No screams yet. Small mercies, and all that. But maybe Duff was just good at keeping it together. 

On the one hand it was nice to have everybody awake at the same time again, but on the other hand it meant, he had a shitload alone time to take care of. Usually he didn’t mind so much. After never having any time to himself all of his life, it had taken some getting used to, but then he had learned to relish the quiet and solitude and most of all, lack of supervision. Sadly, there was none of that tonight. 

So far Duff’s stints in Izzy’s quarters had been short and whatever had taken place there couldn’t have been much and definitely not too horrible. Probably just some type of instructing the new slave. 

At least Duff had never shown those signs of deep despair he’d seen on slaves that were ordered to serve in that specific manner. Axl was no stranger to pain and he had the scars to prove it. He knew what a whipping did, when joints gave out, how one was weakened after days without food, what sleep deprivation did, even for somebody like him, who only needed a couple hours here and there. Still, he had seen men and women who had taken all that with stoicism break when ordered to service the guards at one of their drunken parties. 

Yes, when Duff came onboard, and Axl had resented the new slave just for taking up space, he hadn’t felt much pity. But Duff had turned out to be a nice kid, had taken even the disclosure of his origin in stride and Axl didn’t want to see him fall apart. 

So, when Izzy hadn’t followed through on what everybody had expected, Axl had grown complacent. And Duff apparently, too. 

Izzy was Izzy, after all, yes, he could be ruthless and he didn’t coddle anybody, least himself, but in his moments of fairness Axl admitted that he owed Izzy not only his life, but a whole lot more. Nobody would have taken up with what Axl had thrown at him. Nobody. Yet here he was. Fed, sheltered, alive. 

Tonight, however, Izzy had made his intentions clear. The period of grace was over and Duff would serve his purpose. 

Axl wasn’t even sure what exactly that purpose entailed. Izzy would never do it the way he had seen it done. Or would he? He couldn’t say anymore. He had never been subjected to such horrors, not when there were human slaves galore to use on Tarui. Just like they wouldn’t fuck a dog, they wouldn’t fuck one like him. It had been one of the few reliefs of his existence. 

He knew of course that some slaves did it to each other and wouldn’t even shy away from one of his own breed, just like they ratted each other out or stole each other’s food if they could. But Axl knew how to take care of himself, and being prone to uncontrollable raging was a sure-fire way to be left alone. 

This was the first time he really felt the need to not only save his own skin, but somebody else’s. He had been thinking about a way to distract Izzy, come up with some fake emergency, manipulate the engine, but since the day he had frozen in the kitchen, he was once again restricted to the domestic corridor. 

He had tried to get Slash onboard, but Slash had only looked at him and said stuff like “don’t worry so much” and “it will be OK” and “Izzy is no monster”. Or even “let them have some fun.” 

Fun! How naïve could a person be? Slash probably believed in that bullshit his movies depicted, where after beating up the bad guys the hero was rewarded for his troubles with the heroine and where the heroine pretended that she was actually looking forward to a night of pain. Duff hadn’t been looking forward. He had looked apprehensive, at best. Duff knew what was coming. He had been through it. 

But instead of saving his friend … his friend … he had never had a friend … he was sitting here and drank tea and listened. It was the least he could do, no matter how much he wanted to hide in his cabin and pull the blanket over his head. He would sit and listen and wait and when Duff came out, he would be there for him. 

It took ages until it finally, finally became quiet. Axl didn’t want to think about the state he would be in after such an ordeal. He also didn’t want to think about Izzy being the one subjecting him to it. Yes, Duff was a slave, and maybe a quick fuck was just in the books for the likes of them, but this … this outdrawn torture, that was more than he deserved. It was a lot more than he had thought Izzy capable of. He felt tears sting in his eyes, but forced them down with lifelong practice. He had never cried in his life; he wouldn’t cry now. He had only forgotten how it felt to be so powerless.

It had been silent for a while now, but Duff still wouldn’t come. Axl only hoped he wasn’t too badly hurt to move. He had seen that happen, too, slaves who couldn’t even walk afterwards. But Izzy wouldn’t do that, he hoped, after all Duff was supposed to work. Only Duff hadn’t been bought to work, that was just a bonus. Duff had been bought for this. 

Axl was almost ready to kick survival to the curb and hammer against Izzy’s door, when he heard it slide open. Duff had to pass the kitchen to his own room, so Axl just held his breath and waited. And sure enough, there he was, tall and dressed again and looking pretty much like himself. A bit exhausted maybe, but not overly traumatized. It could still come, Axl knew, once the shock wore off.

“Hey,” Axl said, when Duff spotted him. “You OK?”

Duff startled, but then he smiled … he fucking smiled, how badass was that, smiling after such an experience … and nodded. 

“All fine,” he said. “You still up?”

“Tea.” Axl raised his cup. “I can make you some.” 

“Yeah, I’d rather … I’m pretty tired, you know.”

Axl nodded. “I understand.” 

He also understood the wish to be alone with one’s horrors. After his whippings he had always tried to find a corner a bit away from the others. 

“If you need something …” he hesitated, “… anything, I mean, if you’re hurt or in pain, I mean…,”

“No,” Duff entered the kitchen. “No, it’s not…,” 

He really did look tired. And wet, Axl noticed. Izzy had let him use his shower. So at least Duff had pleased him somehow. The shower was only ever offered as some kind of reward. 

“Look,” Duff sat down. “Maybe one cup.”

“I’ll make some.” 

They were both silent, Axl preparing tea and Duff collecting himself, running his hands through his wet hair and trying to come to some sort of conclusion. 

“Thanks,” Duff said, when Axl put down the cup.

He took a sip and then then they were sitting across each other, and Axl still didn’t know how he could help. Some slaves broke down and cried, others pulled back, some stopped talking completely. Duff was dealing remarkably well with all this. 

“Look,” Duff started. “I know what you’re thinking. Been there, done that, all that shit. But this … this isn’t like that. Izzy didn’t … he didn’t hurt me.”

Axl looked sceptical. Pain was part of sex, there was no way around it. 

Duff watched him expectantly, as if he waited for some kind of comment. Then he ruffled his wet hair again and buried his face in his hands for a moment. The veneer finally cracked. 

“Axl, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He only wished he could do whatever it was that Duff needed now. 

“Did you ever have sex at all? No offense man, just, with being born on Tauri and then living on a ship …”

“No,” Axl replied. “I got lucky, I guess, so … no. Never had to do this.”

“Ok.” Duff took another sip. “I guess, that explains it, but … look, it can be good. Sex I mean. It can be really good.”

“Yeah, when you’re doing it to somebody else,” Axl said. 

“No,” Duff protested. “Really, no, that’s … that’s not how it’s supposed to be done. It’s … both partners should enjoy it, OK? No matter who’s on top. It can be good for both. Fuck, it should be good for both, or it’s done wrong.”

Denial, Axl thought. Maybe that was Duff’s way of dealing with it. It was one of the better ways to cope, push it away, hide it in some corner of your mind, make sure you kept functioning and didn’t give reason for further punishments. 

“OK.” Duff emptied his cup. “Look, I … I’m … Izzy really did a number on me – in the best possible sense of the word, I mean, but… I’m knackered. So … can we have this conversation … tomorrow? After I had some sleep? I’ll explain then. Promise.”

“I’m here if you need to talk,” Axl said. And he would. He would listen to it all, if Duff needed to talk it out. 

“Yeah, no, that’s not what I’m meaning. But I think you need some more information, so, for now, I just wanted to say: I did enjoy it, OK? It was good. Real good. Awesome, actually. Fucking freaking fantastic.”

“But Izzy did …,”

“Yes,” Duff interrupted him. “He did. Pretty… uhm … thoroughly, actually. But it was good. I liked it. And he would have given me an out if I had asked, Ok? So, really, don’t worry. It’s all good, I’m happy, Izzy’s happy, everybody’s happy.”

“OK,” Axl said, not even pretending he understood. 

“Yeah, and …,” Duff ran a hand through the mess that was his drying hair, “… and I’m probably not the right person to explain this to you, but as nobody bothered, and as you really need to know, I guess … tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Axl said. 

“Good. Good night, Axl.” Duff stood up, but before he left, he turned around and Axl found himself caught in a giant hug. “Thanks, man,” Duff whispered into his ear. “For caring so much.”

+++

When Duff woke up the next morning … the alarm being set as early as every day … getting out of bed felt like it belonged into the realm of impossibility. Still, there was work to do, his shift with Slash was beginning in … ugh … thirty minutes, and he didn’t want to go on an empty stomach. Work in the engine room was interesting, but often enough physically taxing and he had just once tried it without breakfast. It hadn’t been a good idea. 

To his surprise, when he had finally managed to get up, get dressed, get out of the room, he already smelled coffee. Slash was in the kitchen, hair pulled back into a ponytail for a change, and handed him a mug before he even had time to mumble “good morning”. 

“Sit, what do you want for breakfast?” 

“Huh?” Duff made. “You don’t eat breakfast.”

“Yeah, no, but I suppose you need yours.” He looked at him expectantly, as if preparing breakfast for his apprentice was on Slash’s usual to do list for the day. 

“Eh … the usual then. Porteinflakes. With this … stuff.” Duff wasn’t a morning person per se, but usually he could make himself function well enough. Luckily Slash seemed to understand. 

“Coming,” he announced and, sure enough, there was a bowl with proteinflakes and fake milk in front of him. Just when he wanted to get up and fetch a spoon it was handed to him. 

Duff was pretty sure that made him glare at Slash, but instead of demanding an explanation, one he didn’t want to hear, because he had a pretty good idea what this was all about, he started eating. 

Slash sat down on the opposite side, just like Axl had the night before, and watched while nursing his own cup of coffee. It was unnerving. 

“Say it,” Duff eventually snapped and dunked his spoon with excessive force into his protein pap. “Whatever you want to say, just say it.”

“Duff…,” Slash squirmed in his seat, as if he hadn’t started the next round of ‘Embarrassing and Uncomfortable Conversations for Dummies’ himself. “Ok.” He sat up straight. “I just got up a bit early, ‘cause I figured, you might not be fully up to par this morning. And I wanted to make sure you’re all right, before Izzy waltzes in here, which he will do any minute.”

“Yes, I’m all right,” Duff snapped. “Thanks for asking. Need details? I’m preparing a report to hand in later, can it wait until then?”

“Yeah, good,” Slash looked suitably embarrassed. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Yeah, would be too late now if I wasn’t OK, would it?”

Duff bit his tongue. It wasn’t Slash’s job to ensure his own captain didn’t use his slaves too roughly. In fact, every master, anywhere in the galaxy, would take serious offense if anybody else would interfere while he was exercising his lawful rights. 

Slash lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Izzy’s not like that. I know that. Or I would have said something.”

“Then why bother now? If he’s not like that?”

“So, he did…” Slash started alarmed.

“No, he didn’t. And no, he isn’t either.” 

Duff shovelled proteinflakes into his mouth. Slash had been right; he would need his breakfast today. Urgently. To keep himself from saying things to a free man no slave should ever say, not even on a ship like this where nothing was as it was supposed to be and where he could yell at people without repercussions. 

“Axl was really worried, so I promised him, I’d check on you. ‘s all. He was all for kicking in the door and dragging you out of Izzy’s clutches.”

That pretty much did it for Duff. He tossed the spoon back into the bowl with enough force to spill fake milk over half of the table. 

“He was freaking out, Slash,” he spat. “He was sitting here, freaking out and waiting for me to come back. He probably heard half of it, I mean, the walls aren’t that thick. Somebody should have made sure he knew what was going on.”

“I’m pretty sure he did know,” Slash replied. 

He looked a little incredulous at the assumption that Axl might have no clue. 

“No, he didn’t,” Duff retorted. “He had a horror show running through his head and you just left him sitting here and listening in. For hours. Really that was …” Duff deflated. He wasn’t fair to Slash. “Have you ever been to a slave camp?” he relented. “One like those where Axl was born? And spent all his life?”

“I … no.” Slash shook his head. “But I know of them, of course, and …”

“Yeah, no, you don’t know,” Duff interrupted him. “And Izzy doesn’t know either. ‘cause if you haven’t lived inside, you have no idea. I spent less than a year there, and most of us were new to the whole shebang, so at least some of us tried to stay … I guess human, you could say. That’s bad enough, but it’s nothing compared to being socialized in one. And that’s where Axl learned about sex. Oh, yes,” he talked on, when Slash wanted to interrupt him, “he knows the technicalities, like what goes where, I’m sure of that, but he doesn’t know what sex is. And I’m not even talking about shit like making love and similar romantic notions that slaves don’t get to experience, but plain, good old sex. Axl only knows rape. ‘cause that’s all that ever happens in these camps. You’re strong enough you’re on top, you’re too weak, you get to be on the bottom. You fight, you lose, you bleed.” 

Duff was on a roll and he had absolutely no idea where he was finding all these words so early in the morning. And Slash, duly impressed, didn’t make any attempts at talking anymore. 

“Axl wasn’t even born. He has no parents, no Mom who might have told him about loving Daddy or at least about being conceived in a night of passion. For him sex is about power and terror and violence. So, he was sitting here in the kitchen, drinking tea, and listening while he thought that was just happening to me, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Total helplessness. And he thought that Izzy was doing it, and that you didn’t care. Do you have an idea what that will do to him? He trusts Izzy. Or did. No idea about now. And instead of hiding under the blankets he stayed and did that to himself, ‘cause he thought I might need … dunno … help afterwards. Which is fucking huge, ‘cause there is no help in these camps. For nobody. You just look the other way and hope it’s not you next time. Waiting and offering and even trying to get a free man to interfere, that’s … that must have so been running against his instincts, it’s … it’s unfathomable.”

Duff took a deep breath. He was running out of steam and his anger evaporated as fast as it had risen. It wasn’t Slash’s fault. People didn’t think much about the slaves’ side of things. They would lose their mind if they did. 

“Sorry,” he said. “Just … somebody should have talked to him. ‘s all.”

“No,” Slash cleared his throat. Over the course of Duff’s rant his expression had turned more and more disturbed. “No, you’re right, I … I fucked up. I … I really didn’t think this far. I thought … I told him that Izzy wouldn’t … wouldn’t …”

“Wouldn’t what, Slash?” Duff asked a bit tired. “It’s not like I walked in there in happy anticipation. I was pretty damned scared. I know enough about sex that I was sure Izzy wouldn’t dish out more than I could take. I trust him that far. Which is a fuck lot, because no slave should have that much trust. It’s not healthy. But I didn’t expect to like it. I couldn’t expect that. No slave can. And that’s what we are, Axl and me. Slaves. Don’t get me wrong, this is an awesome place for a slave and I’m not complaining. I’m happy to be here. Really. Even if I were free, I would like to be here. And sometimes I can pretend to be just that. Free. But when it comes down to it, I have this thing around my neck.” 

He pulled at his collar, but of course the freaking thing would not budge. It never would, not in his lifetime. 

“So, Izzy did … “

“No!” Duff yelled. “He was freaking awesome. Fuck, I really have to hand in that report. But I couldn’t know that. And you shouldn’t have just assumed or you’re as clueless as Axl, just the other way round. At least Izzy seems to get it, or at least partly, because …,” 

“Speak of the devil,” Slash mumbled and pointed over Duff’s shoulder. 

“How much did you listen to?” Duff asked, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. 

“Quite a bit.” Izzy took a mug out of the cupboard and helped himself to some coffee. “Thanks for the glowing report by the way,” he said with a smirk and Duff wanted to kick him. “But I guess I have to talk to Axl.” He sighed theatrically and sat down on one of the free benches. “I should have before. It being my duty and stuff. Don’t worry about it, I’ll sit him down later. He’ll come around.”

“No, let me …,” Duff started, “I mean … he won’t believe you. Whatever you say. He won’t. It has to come from me.”

Izzy eyed him in his usual impervious manner. 

“OK,” he said then. “You have this morning off. Run along, kid, I’ll take your shift.”

He waved towards the door. 

“Can I at least finish breakfast?” Duff asked. He had only a spoonful left, but he made a point out of eating up and clearing the table. He so wasn’t looking forward to talking to Axl, but he had promised.

“Oh, and Duff?” Izzy stopped him, when he was already halfway out the door. 

Duff turned around. 

“I will make love to you.” There it was again, that smirk Duff loved and hated with equal passion. “Promise.”

Duff showed him the middle finger and left. The man was obnoxious. 

+++

Slash watched Duff’s retreating back, feeling like shit. “I fucked up,” he muttered. 

“Nah.” Izzy leant back and ran a hand through his messy hair. “It was my mistake.”

Slash waited for the ‘but’, only it didn’t come. 

“Can you repeat that?” he asked “I’m not sure I heard correctly.”

Izzy made a rude gesture. “You’ve still got popcorn in your hair.”

Slash pulled his ponytail forward, but there was none.

“Asshole,” he said. 

“You’re repeating yourself. Forget it, nothing of this is your fault. Axl’s my responsibility.”

“Oh, come on, maybe he once was. But he’s here long enough to be my guilty pleasure, too. And I still fucked up. Not only with Axl. With Duff. I shouldn’t have let this happen. I should have stopped you. You were really being an asshole, Izzy. And Axl’s right. I stood by and watched.”

Izzy chuckled. “Duff had a good time. Really. He won’t mind more of what he got.”

“Awfully full of yourself, chief.”

“Phh,” Izzy made and sipped his coffee. “You heard him. Did he sound disappointed with my … uhm… performance?”

“So you really did it, huh? You … ehm … eased him into it.”

“More pushed him in at the deep end. But he found out he knew how to swim. Duff’s all good. Axl is the problem. This might push him a bit far.”

“Treatment?” 

“Preferably yesterday, but I promised, I wouldn’t force him. And he said he’ll come to me if he needs it, only now …” Izzy sucked breath through his teeth, “… he might not.”

“Awesome.” Slash pulled at his ponytail. 

“Yeah. Awesome.”

“And you think it’s a good idea to let Duff do the … uhm… explaining?”

“What else do you suggest? Let him watch?”

Slash snorted. The image of Axl sitting on the corner of the bed while Izzy was going down and dirty on Duff was too much for him. 

“Actually, why not? You could also make an educational video. Better than leaving his schooling to porn universe.” 

Izzy laughed, but sobered quickly. “Honestly? I don’t think he’s watching porn. Duff is right. For Axl that’s like getting your kicks out of slaughtering cute little animals. He doesn’t even like touching. And that’s why I never thought I had to give him the sex talk. I figured as long as he can’t stand a hand on him, he won’t need it. I didn’t expect him to get all protective about Duff. I mean, he didn’t even like him.”

“At the beginning,” Slash said. “Because he never likes anything new. But they bonded pretty quickly. I think over tomato sauce or something.”

“And banging on soup pots. Did you know Axl could sing like that?”

“I had no idea,” Slash replied. “Just don’t tell him he’s good, or he’ll never sing another note again. He pretends that nobody is hearing them, when they’re at it.”

Izzy snorted. “You make it sound like something dirty.”

“Axl singing is dirty,” Slash replied. “In a really awesome kind of way. Which is why: don’t shut him up.”

“I’ll touch him with kid gloves,” Izzy said with yet another sigh. “We’ll have epic drama on our hands for the next time anyway. Stars will explode and galaxies drown because I made Axl cry. And this time I didn’t even mean to. I really didn’t think he would take Duff’s wellbeing to heart like that.”

He seemed to contemplate that line of thought further and Slash just watched. Leaving difficult things to Izzy was what he always did, and while he wondered if getting a bit more involved was in order, he shied away from the responsibility. It had been hard enough to get a grip on himself, he didn’t want to be responsible for Axl, too. 

“Do you think he was jealous?”

Slash sputtered into his coffee mug before he managed to put it down and indulge in a whole round of laughter. 

“Wait,” he interrupted his own merriment. “Jealous of you or of Duff?”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Do you think he’s maybe a little bit in love with Duff?”

“Axl?” Slash couldn’t help it, another fit of laughter caught him. After all this melodrama laughing just felt good. 

“No,” he said, when he finally sobered up enough to do so. “No, I don’t think he’s got any romantic notions about our Duff. He just likes him. Really, really likes him. On an egalitarian level. That’s new for him. I’m pretty sure he likes us to, in his own way, but we’re free and he’s not. Duff is not only a slave, he’s younger, he’s come later and he’s rather tractable. Axl can feel … dunno… superior around him. In charge. Be the strong one, you know? He’s never had that in his life. I think that’s it.”

Izzy hummed, but Slash couldn’t make out whether in agreement or dissent.

“So,” he said abruptly, when he got up after a minute of silent pondering. “Work to do, ships to fly, cargo to deliver. And you’ve got a double shift ahead of you.”

“Hey, you said you’d do Duff’s shift!” Slash protested. 

“And you really think I meant that?” Izzy pushed his empty cup into Slash’s direction. “And clean up the kitchen, we don’t need dishes flying around in case it’s getting rough.”


	10. Braiding Hair

Axl didn’t come out of his room for breakfast. Duff didn’t know when he usually started the day, his schedule had him down in the engine room with Slash when Axl’s work started, but when lunchtime came around, he was reasonably sure that Axl was hiding. He himself was hiding, too. Izzy had been around, grabbing some protein bars and some coffee for lunch, but Duff hadn’t joined him in the kitchen. He couldn’t really face him at the moment. 

Instead he had started working on the domestic corridor, taking over Axl’s tasks as well as his own, and had thought about how to follow up on his promised explanations. Duff was no prude, but he would have to go into detail, not only in the general sense, but about what he and Izzy had done, and that was passing the border between awkward and embarrassing. 

When afternoon came around and there was still no Axl, Duff just wanted to get over it. Maybe Axl wouldn’t come out for years. He was stubborn enough for such a stunt. Deciding that it was better to not come empty handed, Duff fetched some tea and, some cookies (just to spite Izzy, since they were not on the list for that day) and knocked at Axl’s door. 

“It’s me,” he yelled for good measure. “Duff.”

“One moment,” came the reply. It took several minutes, but then the door opened and Axl’s pale face appeared. He was dressed in a mismatched set of sweats and his hair was tousled under a bandana that looked as if he had hastily wrapped it around his head.

“I’m bearing gift’s!” Duff held up the tray. “You weren’t out for lunch, so I figured you might be hungry.”

“Uhm,” Axl made, but he did step aside and let Duff enter. “Sorry about that. I know I said I’d be here if you needed to talk. Do you … do you want to talk now?”

“Kind of,” Duff said. ‘Want’ was not the word he would use, more ‘have to’. He set the tray down on the nightstand. 

Axl’s quarters were just like Duff’s, small, cramped, and pretty impersonal. But there was a display case at the wall, one that contained random things like tiny sea shells, broken twigs, dried leaves and even a handful of hay. It was probably stuff he had picked up on the different planets they had visited. Duff didn’t comment on it. Axl could be embarrassed about the most stupid things and then he would spout obscenities and run off and the atmosphere would be tense for the rest of the day. Not what he needed now. 

Axl climbed onto the bed at the foot end, crossing his legs under himself like a child, and pointed towards the other end. “Wanna sit down?”

“Thanks.” Duff followed suit, leant against the headboard and stretched out his legs. This wouldn’t be over in five minutes, so he could just as well get comfortable. “Tea?” He handed over one of the mugs and also tossed a wrapped cookie into Axl’s direction. 

“Not hungry,” Axl said, but he took the mug. Axl liked his teas. 

“Yeah,” Duff started. “I guess I should first make some small talk about the weather and stuff, but … uhm … can we just skip that?”

Axl shrugged. 

“So … uhm… is there anything you want to know? I mean, do you have any questions?”

Axl shook his head. Duff wondered if he should have foregone sleep last night and just soldiered through this disgrace of a conversation right away. At least Axl had been open then. Now he just sat there and stared and maybe he didn’t even want to hear about all this shit. But he had promised not only Axl, but also Izzy and so he took a deep breath and started. 

“About sex,” he said. “I guess you know how it works.” He took a sip of tea, just to calm his nerves. 

Axl gave him an incredulous look. “I may have spent my life under a rock, but I’m not stupid, Duff. Of course, I know how it works. Izzy put his dick up your ass.”

Duff choked on his tea, almost spilling the rest of it over the bed. “Uhm, yeah, pretty much,” he finally brought out between coughs. “It’s just, look, that’s just the technical part. But there are other things you have to take into account. Like … why somebody is doing it. And how.”

“Because it makes them get off? Duff, I do jerk off, you know. I know it feels good to get your rocks off. Doesn’t mean I have to do it inside somebody else’s body. You don’t have to make excuses for Izzy. What he did to you was fucked up.”

“I’m not making excuses. Just trying to explain that… uhm …,” this talk was already running into the wrong direction and Duff thought about the sentences he had concocted in his head over the morning. 

“It’s like food,” he said. 

“Food?” Axl asked. 

“Yeah, food. The shit that goes down at the slave camps, that’s like … you know … like somebody puking on a plate and putting it in front of you and telling you to eat.” Which did happen in slave camps, too, Duff knew, so Axl probably got the metaphor. “Technically it’s food, there’s probably even some nutrition left in it, but you won’t for a minute pretend that the person doing it has your best interests at heart.”

“Only if you’re a pigeon,” Axl replied, but he was grinning a bit. “Then you’re used to it.”

“Yeah, I’m not a pigeon and neither are you,” Duff talked on, slightly encouraged by the progress. “And then there’s sex, like … when we are really busy and there’s no time for cooking, but we’re all hungry and so we throw some processed shit into the preparer. But it still feels better to eat it together than alone and so we do that. It’s not great, doesn’t taste like much, but afterwards you’re sated and you feel OK and it was nice talking to the others over the meal. That’s like … well, a lot of sex is like that. Like you have to scratch an itch, and you find somebody who also has to scratch an itch and then you scratch each other’s itches.”

Now Axl looked dubious again, like he was making up bullshit, but Duff just pondered on. He had to get through this without Axl tossing him off the rails every other sentence. 

“And then there’s, like, when you cook an elaborate meal, with lots of real food and maybe you even get your hands on some of those herbs in the books, and you take really, really, a lot of trouble to get it right, and maybe you’re not even cooking your own favourite meal, but that of your partner because you want to make him happy, you know, and then you eat it together and it’s just plain awesome. For both of you, because you’re both eating. And it tastes great. And that’s … that’s fantastic. And, I guess, that’s what happened with me and Izzy yesterday. Only I didn’t expect it. I expected to cook this awesome dish and having to serve it to him and maybe I would get some leftovers at the end, when he was done eating, you know, but it wasn’t like that at all. It’s more like, he took the plate and started feeding the food to me, and …”

“Duff?” Axl interrupted him. “Please. No more food metaphors. They are horrible.”

Duff stopped short. “Ok,” he said. 

“I got that much yesterday. You say it was good and you enjoyed it.”

Duff nodded. 

“What I don’t get is … how? Izzy put his fucking dick up your ass and that shit must hurt like woah. I’ve seen people break from it. All the time. So how can you like it?”

“Uhm, no,” Duff said. “Or, yes, if you put it like that, it would hurt. But that’s not how it is done when you … when you take good care of your partner. And you should take good care of your partner during sex, always. So you do a lot of preparing, like using your fingers first and stretching and you use lubrication and then, when you do that enough … and don’t get me wrong, if you do it for the first time it can really take time, but eventually, if you go through all that, then it shouldn’t hurt. In fact, it feels good. Really, Axl, I’m not making this up.”

“OK,” Axl said, but he still looked doubtful. 

“I .. I’m not new to this,” Duff said. He would reveal more than he had planned, but, shit, he really had to get this through Axl’s skull. “I started pretty early, actually. I was still a kid. And nobody forced me. And I guess I was lucky, ‘cause the first time I had sex on the receiving end, my lover was really considerate. Took us the whole weekend. But I found, I liked it. Not everybody does and that’s fine, but I do. I like being on the bottom, you know. I like topping, too, and before you say something, I’ve never hurt my partners and I’ve never forced them. ‘cause I think, when you’re the one on top, then that’s your responsibility. That the other one feels good. But I also like being on the bottom.”

“You really like it?” Axl asked again, probably still thinking that they were talking about different things.

Duff nodded. “I come harder that way. It’s like a double stimulation.”

“Huh,” Axl made. “You’re not making this up?”

Duff shook his head. 

“I had thought, maybe you were dissociating. Because of your hero worship complex for Izzy.”

“I don’t have a hero worship complex,” Duff sputtered. 

“Oh, you do,” Axl replied with a grin. “A tiny bit. Don’t worry, everybody has. But you were scared when he told you to come. When it’s so great, why were you scared?”

“Yes, I was scared,” Duff admitted. “With Izzy it’s a bit of a grey area. ‘cause I’m the slave and he’s my master, so there’s always this power imbalance. If he orders me to do something I don’t want, I’ll still have to do it. That’s what I was afraid of. But, and that’s where I knew it’d be all OK, there was this moment. He…,” Duff hesitated, wondering how to explain it without it being too embarrassing. “Izzy had laid me down on my back and he was on top of me and … we weren’t really doing anything yet, he was just towering over me and suddenly I felt kind of claustrophobic. I thought I might panic and so I just … you know… grabbed him and rolled him over and then I had him under me and I pinned him down, and I thought, fuck, now he’s gonna hit me or at least tell me to suck it up and take it, but he … he just lay there and looked up at me and just kind of … surrendered.”

“He what?” Axl asked incredulity written all over his face. “Never.”

“No, not really,” Duff admitted. “But he lay there all still and told me to take control. Just like that. And, yeah, that’s when I knew it would be OK. I mean, I don’t even know why I freaked out, after all I had my fair share of …ugh … puke sex in prison and I did … oh God, please don’t tell anybody...” Duff really didn’t want to give away all his secrets, but, alas, apparently this was the hour of soul baring and so he would go all the way. “OK. Sometimes, when money was really tight … and I have a lot of younger siblings, you know, so money was always tight, I would do it for payment. Sex.”

Axl nodded, totally unimpressed, as if Duff hadn’t just revealed that he was a whore. But where he came from, offering sex for more food or less pain was normal. 

“Yeah, and I thought it would be like that. With Izzy. I’d deliver and he’d keep me here.”

“Izzy will keep you anyway, no matter whether you deliver or not.”

Duff wasn’t so sure about that, but that was not the topic of the day. “Only even when I used to … “ whore myself out, his brain supplied helpfully, “… do that, I was still pretty much in control. Like, somebody wouldn’t stop when I said so, I’d punch them in the face. Helps if you’re 6’3’’, you know.” It had also helped in the slave training camp, at least to keep him safe from other slaves, if not from the guards and trainers. “But I can’t punch Izzy.”

“Oh yes, you can punch Izzy,” Axl replied and he didn’t even look like he was joking. 

“No, I can’t,” Duff corrected. “I mean, he’d really sell me if I started shit like that.”

“No, he won’t,” Axl insisted. “Really, if he’s being an asshole, you can just clock him one. He probably even expects it. He definitely deserves it. Look, I’ve punched Izzy plenty of times and I’m still here. Never sold me.” 

“You… you hit Izzy?” Duff asked flabbergasted. “Like, really hit him?”

Axl blushed. “Yeah, not anymore. I used to. Remember when I told you about having glitches?”

“You mean talents.”

Axl rolled his eyes. “What I’m gonna tell you about, I wouldn’t call that a talent.” 

He took a deep breath, then let it go, and took an even deeper one, his features settling into pure determination. Whatever he was about to tell, this wasn’t easy for him. 

“My brain malfunctions. Pretty bad. I get … aggressive. And I destroy stuff. Which is why I’m currently not allowed off this floor. Unless Izzy drags me along to the bridge or so. But not on my own. ‘cause I was pretty close to a glitch that … other day.”

Duff had already noticed that Axl wasn’t working in the machine room anymore, but he hadn’t questioned it. He had just assumed that it wasn’t his favourite job, and as Duff was now there to take care of it, he wasn’t needed. 

“And when you get in my way, it can turn ugly. And it couldn’t be controlled. Not even with the electric collar and they got me a really heavy one on Tarui. Burned the skin off my neck, but wouldn’t bring me down. They restarted my brain several times. And that sucks because it wipes out all memories and you wake up and look around and you don’t know who you are and where you are and why you should live in such a shitty place. But with my brain, it wouldn’t stick. My memories would be back after a week or so, and everything was just as before. So they decided to take me apart.”

Duff did his best to look as if he didn’t know that part yet, but sadly he failed. 

“They told you already, huh?” Axl asked, red faced with either embarrassment or anger or both. 

“No,” Duff said, lying just a little bit. “Just that Izzy got you when your owners were about to kill you. That he saved you. That’s what Slash told me.”

“Take me apart,” Axl corrected. “Not natural, remember? I can’t be killed, can’t be hurt either, only damaged.”

“Yes, you can be killed,” Duff repeated stubbornly. “You can be killed and you can be hurt and you get to have talents.”

“If you say so.” Axl sipped at his cold tea. “Anyway. Izzy took me. Because … he’s a bit full of himself, sometimes, you know. He thought he could train me, and me being considered untrainable, that peaked his ambition. And, yeah, I hate to admit it, but turned out: he really could.” 

He crunched his face in disgust with himself. “I was determined to fight him every step of the way, but eventually it just seemed too much effort. Because he just refused to fight me back or punish me or do anything of all those things he was supposed to do.”

He stared into space for a moment, as if he had to collect his thoughts. Duff just waited. 

“Do you know about Tarui?”

“In principle,” Duff said. “Not in detail, of course. But they say it’s the worst place you can be.”

“I suppose being buried alive in a box on a deserted moon would be worse,” Axl said. “But apart from that: yeah. When Izzy got me, that was the first time I left the mines in all my life. We were never brought up. Too much trouble. I only knew caves and tunnels and suddenly there was sky. I was almost glad when we reached the ship because I couldn’t deal with open space at all. For a long time I couldn’t even enter the sitting room, ‘cause the window made me freak out.”

“But you can now, don’t you?” Duff asked. “You’ve been on more planets than me!” He pointed towards the display case. 

“I learned it, I guess. I mean, suddenly I was here. And everything was different. Took me ages until I could sleep in the bed, because it was too soft. And the food. Everything tasted so weird. I mean, I had eaten the same handful of dog kibble every day of my life and suddenly I’m supposed to eat real food. And I figured, OK, new place, same story. And then there was Izzy. I guess it threw me for a loop. I started to… to… fuck, I behaved a bit like you are behaving now. Hero worship complex and all. I should have fought harder, I guess.”

“What for?” Duff asked. “Really, nobody says you have to make life as horrible for yourself as you can. We only get this one life and it’s gonna be shit anyway, so we have all the right to take all the good we get. And enjoy it. What would you gain out of fighting Izzy? Nothing.”

“It’s the principle of it all, I suppose,” Axl said. “But that’s not the point. The point is: I still got these rages, of course. ‘cause they have nothing to do with training. I can’t influence them. And I did a whole lot of damage.”

“And you punched him,” Duff completed, doing his best to not show his amazement. 

“Yeah, not only,” Axl mumbled. He blew into his tea and fiddled with the still unopened cookie in his lap. “You’ve seen Izzy’s back, I suppose.”

Duff nodded. “Slash told me about the accident and how you struggled to keep him alive.

“Yeah,” Axl took a deep breath. “Only it wasn’t an accident. Guess that was me, too.”

“You?” Duff was shocked.

“Hit him pretty hard, when he tried to get me down. Happened in the engine room. He stumbled and fell backwards and landed on the generator.” Axl didn’t look at him, just started to break the cookie into crumbles through the wrapper. “That’s when I got these.” Hesitantly he reached up and removed his bandana. Then he pushed his hair to the side and Duff spotted something shiny under the red strands, something like metal, a hair clasp maybe or …

“Is that a button?” he asked, almost trying to touch and only then remembering that Axl didn’t like that. 

“Electrode,” Axl said. “Got eleven more of those.” He let his hands sink and the hair fell back over the piece of metal. 

Duff thought about something to say that didn’t sound morbidly curious. 

“There was this … specialist,” Axl explained. “Izzy had mentioned her. He did a fuckton of research on assemblees after I came onboard. Said there had to be a way to repair me. Only he was like you, he called it ‘get me some help’. But what he meant was repair me. Anyway, she had said she could rewire me without wiping my memories and that I would be just the same as always, just not so … volatile.”

“And he made you … get that?” Duff asked, wondering whether he should be horrified or if there was any valid reason that excused embedding electrodes into Axl’s skull. 

“Yeah. No. No, he didn’t. He just told me there was the option, but that it was up to me. But I didn’t want to. Just the idea of people fucking around with my brain again… That was before …. Anyway, then there was … the accident.” 

He seemed to be happy to settle on the word he had refused earlier. 

“And that kind of unsettled me and I decided I would do it. Then Izzy said, no, because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot sometimes, but I had to. I had known for a while because it’s one thing to go on a rampage in a slave compound where everybody is an asshole and just deserves to be slugged, but it’s something else on a space ship, where everything is so fucking delicate. Suffice to say, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I wish I had done it before … you know.”

Duff decided not to dwell on the ‘accident’. “So, it’s good now? You’re feeling well?”

“Yeah, no,” Axl said. “It’s better and it keeps for a while, but not indefinitely. I’m also less …uhm … unstoppable. Collar can get me down now. Biggest difference is, I can feel it building up. It doesn’t come out of the blue anymore and I usually know when I’m pushing my limits. Which is why I still have those fuckers in my brain.” 

He wiped his hair back again and pointed at the electrodes. Duff could make out more this time, scattered all over his skull. 

“Every one of those is attached to a freaking probe that goes to some area somewhere in my brain matter. And every once in a while, Izzy’s got to give me another shock. This specialist … she showed him how to do it.”

“How often,” Duff asked. 

Axl shrugged. “Whenever I tell him. He leaves it to me. I wish he wouldn’t sometimes, because then I could hate him for it, but he waits until I fucking ask for it. He knows I’ll do. ‘cause I don’t want something like … that … to happen again. I almost killed him. For a while we were sure he would die. He should have shot me afterwards.”

“I’m sorry.” Duff sounded inadequate to his own ears. “Really, that must suck.”

Axl smirked, pushing his former self-hatred out of the way. “Not more than getting his royal dick up your ass, I suppose.”

Duff giggled, glad about the attempt to lighten the move. 

“Thanks for telling me,” he said and he meant it. He knew this had been hard on Axl. Just that he covered the electrodes with a bandana at all times showed how much not OK he was with them. 

“Yeah, thanks for telling me you are a whore and like to have your ass full of Izzy’s dick,” Axl replied, but he grinned while saying so, taking the sting out of his words. 

“Maybe we should start braiding each other’s hair when we have the next heart to heart,” Duff suggested lightly. 

“Why should we do that?” Axl asked. 

“Like … you know … girls at a sleep over?”

“Huh?” Axl looked absolutely clueless and Duff realized belatedly that there weren’t any sleepovers where he came from. And that nobody got to have long hair either, so whatever little girls did, braiding each other’s hair was not on the agenda. 

“Forget it.” Duff decided he deserved his own cookie and took one. 

“Right. Whatever,” Axl said. “Now, to round this out. Do you know about Slash’s dirty secret?”

“That he has a guitar hidden in his cabin and plays along to his rock songs when he thinks nobody can hear him?”

Axl chuckled. “You noticed, huh?”

“Hard not to notice.” And Duff didn’t even know why Slash was hiding, he wasn’t half bad. Sometimes better than the guy actually playing the guitar in the song. 

“Yeah, that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about the bounty.”

“Bounty?” Duff asked. “On Slash?”

“Aha,” Axl confirmed. “That’s why Izzy wouldn’t let him off at Pitraria. He gets caught, he comes back with a collar just like yours and mine. I guess Izzy doesn’t want to have to buy him back. Trained mechanic and all. He’s gonna be a bit more expensive than you and me.”

“Wow,” Duff said. “What did he do?” He shouldn’t be asking, after all everybody was dragging their personal ghosts around on this ship, and it seemed to be common agreement to acknowledge them, but never talk about them. 

“Don’t know. He won’t say. Must be pretty big. Maybe he killed somebody.”

“Slash?” Duff sputtered. Their friendly, laid back mechanic, who liked to get a rise out of Izzy just for the fun of it, but took the retaliation with a good-natured laugh? Who took up with Axl’s shit without batting an eye and who taught Duff space ship mechanics with never ending patience?

“He’s got a mean right hook,” Axl said. “I mean, they did have to bring me down sometimes. In the beginning. Slash can hold his own.”

“Yeah, but killing someone? I don’t think so.” Duff didn’t believe him. Axl had no idea and with him everything always had to be the worst possible alternative. 

Axl shrugged. Then he opened the cookie wrapper and ate the crumbs. “I’m getting hungry,” he said. 

“No wonder, you haven’t eaten all day.”

“What’s on the list today?”

“Don’t know.” Duff stretched his arms over his head. “Care to have a look?”

“No, I’ll come later. You good on your own?”

“Sure,” Duff said. “But you’ll come? For dinner? Promise?”

“I’m not planning on starving to death.” 

“Still. You’ll be there?”

“Yes,” Axl said with a deep sigh. “Yes, I’ll be there.”


	11. Lis

Dinner wasn’t a joy-filled affair. Slash had to admit, he was getting spoiled and being presented with a pot full of rehydrated, hardly recognizable stuff was a disappointment he really didn’t care for after a day like this. 

First the Axl/Duff/Izzy drama, complete with personal guilt trip, then having to work alone all day in the engine room when he had gotten used to Duff’s help and company, and now this. 

“What’s this?” Izzy asked, apparently not in an especially good mood either. 

“Food,” Duff said and handed out spoons. “Nutritious, balanced…,”

“…disgusting,” Izzy completed. 

“We used to eat this all the time,” Slash tried to smooth out the atmosphere. 

“When?” Izzy asked.

“For example, that one time when we were delivering supplies to Laruu.”

“You mean, after we had a major engine failure, were floating in space for over a month, could only go at half power afterwards, and made it in on our last leg? After having eaten up all our provisions and wondering if we really needed food every day? Yeah, I remember. Then we were eating shit like this.”

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” Duff muttered. 

“Yeah,” Izzy said. “And you didn’t, did you?”

Duff looked mutinous. “I didn’t know you were so … uhm.”

“Privileged,” Axl said. To Slash’s surprise he had shown up for dinner. 

He didn’t exactly look at anybody, but Slash hadn’t expected him to. Neither had Izzy, apparently, for Izzy had greeted him with a short smile, and then given him his space. 

“There were times when I would have licked my fingers after this.” Axl took a bite and pulled a face. “But I’m afraid … those days are over.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Duff said, but for once his sense of humour was gone. “I’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” Izzy said after trying a spoon full. “I can’t take this. Not today. Sandwiches, guys?” 

“Yes, please,” Slash said with a sigh of relief. 

“I’m not making them,” Duff complained. “I did cook, you don’t like it, you make your own.”

“We’ve already established that you didn’t cook.” Izzy stood up. 

When he passed Duff, he ruffled his hair a little, but Duff, being still in an obstinate mood, pulled away. Izzy let it go. He dived into the freezer for slices of bread and anything that might go on top. Slash stood up to help him and together they were slapping frozen stuff on top of frozen stuff and pushed it all into the preparer for heating up. They waited in total silence until the food was done, everybody just staring ahead of himself. 

“Eat up, kids,” Izzy said and put the stack of sandwiches in the middle of the table. 

For a moment Slash thought Duff would eat his horror-pap out of sheer defiance, but then he relented. He wasn’t one for ongoing recalcitrance, and so Duff was the first to soften and grin around his sandwich. 

“Hey, guys,” he said. “What do you give to a sick lemon?”

“Huh?” Slash asked through a mouthful of bread, while Izzy, without stopping chewing, only raised an eyebrow. 

“Lemon aid!”

There was a lot more eye rolling than laughing, but it did the job and broke the tension. They weren’t exactly light hearted afterwards, but the usual snarking resumed, there was ribbing and bantering and everybody was ready to just put the day behind themselves. 

“Izzy,” Axl suddenly said, after Duff had just told another stupid joke, “Izzy, I think I need treatment.” 

He sat very still, looking directly at Izzy, slight panic in his eyes. 

“Sure,” Izzy said, as if it was a regular occurrence to discuss this over dinner. “Tomorrow morning?”

“No,” Axl said. “I think … I need it … now.” He stiffened and slammed a hand onto the table top, trying visibly to ground himself. 

Slash froze. This was bad, not a little lapse Izzy could defuse, this reminded him of a landslide in slow motion. Axl clutched at the edge of the table with both hands. His muscles tensed up and he was panting now, sucking in breath and pushing it out as if his lungs refused to cooperate. 

“Ok, Axl.” Izzy stood up very slowly, like he had done so often over the years. “Here’s how we do it.” 

He walked around Slash and nudged him lightly against the back. Slash nodded imperceptibly and moved his hands as slowly as he could under the table. There he fiddled with his bracelet, trying to find the right settings. They hadn’t needed this in years. 

“Axl?” Izzy was next to him now. “I’ll touch your arm, OK?”

Axl didn’t reply. He likely couldn’t. He was sweating, trembling from exertion, trying desperately to keep himself in check. His hands clawed into the table edge until Slash expected dents to form under his fingers. 

“Now, Axl, OK?” 

Izzy gingerly placed a hand on Axl’s shoulder and let it slide inch by inch down his arm towards his wrist, towards the cuff. Axl wouldn’t keep it together much longer and they had to restrain him before he lost it. 

“All right,” Izzy said when he touched the shackle. “Now try to bend forward and put your head onto the table.”

Axl didn’t react. He sat stiff and upright, safe for the tremors that ran through his body in waves. His jaw was so rigid, Slash heard teeth gnash. 

“Try, Axl,” Izzy said. “You’re doing good. You’ve got it together.” He raised his second hand and put it on Axl’s shoulder. “Forward, Axl. Try. You can do it.” He exerted a little pressure and Slash forgot to breathe. “You’re too tense to move, you’ve got to relax a bit. Come on, Axl, work with me here.”

Axl pulled in another shuddering breath and his head moved downwards a little bit. His shoulders slumped slightly and Izzy carefully guided him down until Axl’s forehead was pressed against the table top

“Good. Really good, almost done.” Just as slowly he reached around Axl’s back for his other wrist. “I’ve got you, just let me … ,” 

In retrospect Slash thought he should have seen it coming. Axl moved lighting fast, grabbed Izzy’s hand, the one that had been lying on his wrist, and twisted his arm around in one forceful movement. There was the sickening crack of breaking bones, and wailing like a wounded animal Izzy went down to his knees. Axl twisted his arm behind his back, pulling it up higher than should be possible. Izzy was howling in earnest now.

Duff had jumped up, trying to separate the two, but he was no match for Axl in full rage. He caught an elbow into his face and stumbled backwards. Slash really couldn’t wait any longer and he realized that he wouldn’t get a better chance. Activating the shock collar would get Izzy, too, but at least Duff was out of the way. He put his finger onto his bracelet and Axl went down like a felled tree. He crashed right on top of Izzy, jarring his injured arm further, but Slash was not sure Izzy still noticed. He shouldn’t have gotten the full load, but still enough to be down for the count.

Slash was up in an instant and Duff followed suit, scrambling back to his feet from where he had landed on his behind. They pulled Axl away from Izzy and rolled him onto his belly, as if they had done this as a team a hundred times. Duff grabbed Axl’s feet and clicked the shackles together while Slash did the same with his wrists. 

Izzy was groaning somewhere next to them, slowly coming to again. 

“Fuck,” he wheezed. “I really thought we had put that shit behind us.”

“Don’t move,” Slash ordered. “We’ll get Axl secured and then I’m with you. Just … don’t fucking move, OK?”

Izzy muttered something unintelligible, and Slash decided he would live without immediate attention.

“What do you need me to do?” Duff asked, still cowering at Axl’s feet. He had been quick to respond, Slash thought, and he had stayed able to act. 

“We take him to his cabin,” Slash said. “Fast, before he wakes up.”

Axl couldn’t do much in his current state, but it still sucked to carry him when he was struggling and screaming his head off. 

Duff nodded. He grabbed Axl under his shoulders while Slash took his feet and they carried him to his bed. 

“How do we make sure he doesn’t hurt himself?” Duff asked when they had laid him down. 

“There’s … here,” Slash disconnected the cuffs and clicked them to the appropriate docks that had been installed into Axl’s bed. “We got this done when it was still really bad. Haven’t needed them in … forever.”

“This is not really bad?” Duff asked. His voice trembled a little.

“This is pretty bad, but not as bad as it was. OK, can you … stay with him? Can’t say if he comes to lucid or totally out of it. Could be either. Anyway, he shouldn’t be alone and somebody has to look after Izzy or he’ll probably tear off his arm pretending he’s all fine and happy.” 

“I’ve got this,” Duff said. “Is there something I can do for Axl?”

“If he’s himself, you can give him something to drink. If not, let him rave it out. I’ll be back to check on you as fast as I can. Use the intercom if you need help.”

Duff nodded and Slash ran back to the kitchen. Izzy was where he had left him, still on his side and curled up into himself. That was bad. Izzy never took directions from anybody and Slash had expected him to be up and aggravating the damage done to him. He knelt down, touching his shoulder. 

“You with me, chief?”

“All there,” Izzy wheezed. “How’s Axl?”

“Secured. Duff’s with him. Let me look at your arm.”

“Broken,” Izzy forced out. 

“No shit, man, I got that much.”

“Dislocated, too. You’ve got to …,” he groaned and for a moment Slash thought he would lose consciousness again, “… got to put it back in.”

“Yeah, will do,” Slash replied, not looking forward to the task. He could set broken bones quite well, and Axl’s shoulder luxated pretty regularly, making for ample practice. Still, there was always the risk of fucking it up. “First, we’ll get you to sick bay and I’ll check the extend of the damage, OK? Come on, up you go.”

Carefully Slash helped Izzy sit. The sleeve was ripped and Slash groaned at what he saw. Open fracture. Double. He could even see bone shimmer through the torn flesh, and the arm was bent downward somewhere between wrist and elbow. For a moment Slash thought he would puke. 

“Can you hold your arm yourself?” he asked and Izzy nodded. “Good, then…,” he pushed his shoulder under Izzy’s other arm and brought him to his feet. Then he dragged him as carefully as possible down the corridor to sickbay. 

The sickbay wasn’t anything spectacular, but it contained not only first aid material, but also different scanners, a well-stocked medical cabinet, and a basic lab. Slash lowered Izzy down on the stretcher and kept him with one hand from rolling in on himself again. 

“I’ll cut off your shirt,” he said and went to task without delay. He didn’t bother to pull it away from under Izzy, just cut open what got in the way and left the rest where it was. Then he pulled a side table towards the stretcher and pulled Izzy’s arm out as good as he could. 

Izzy whimpered and Slash cursed inwardly. He wasn’t sure if he should first put the shoulder back in or set the bones. Bones first, he decided. He had to keep the broken ends from moving and doing more damage on nerves and sinews than they already had. 

He pulled the scanner over and positioned it over Izzy’s arm. 

“How bad?” Izzy asked. His eyes, dark at the best of times, were almost black.

“Are you really asking that?” Slash turned the monitor around so that Izzy could see the pitiful image of what had once been his right arm. 

“Fuck,” Izzy brought out. “You’ve got to...,”

“I know what I’ve got to,” Slash interrupted him. “Be a good patient and let Doctor Slash do his job.” 

“Just stop fucking around and do it already.”

Slash didn’t react. He was used to Izzy’s griping. 

“I need Duff for this,” he said. “To hold you down.”

“I can fucking take it,” Izzy protested. 

“Yeah?” Slash was tempted to push against his arm to show him that he could not fucking take it.

“Yeah, just …”

“Izzy,” Slash said. “Shut up and let me think.”

It was a testament to how badly Izzy was feeling that he really did shut up. It gave him time to decide about how he was going to realign the bones without damaging anything else.

“Listen closely,” he said after he had fully assessed the situation. “The fracture is clean enough and it should heal without problem. But there’s one end lying directly on the artery and I really don’t want to rip that open. I can set bones. I can’t close veins and I sure as fuck don’t want to learn how to amputate. So, do me a favour and don’t fucking move, not even a millimetre.” 

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Izzy shot back. 

It would be a bit tricky, but he was convinced he could manage. At least if Izzy held still or, as alternative, if Duff held him still. He weighed the arm down with small sandbags at wrist and elbow before he stood up and activated the intercom. 

“Duff?” 

“Right here,” came the reply. 

“How’s Axl?”

“OK so far. He woke up and he’s … OK.”

“Good. I need you up here. Sickbay. Now.”

Slash didn’t wait for an answer and rummaged through the drug cabinet. They did have local anaesthetics, but sadly they hardly ever worked with Izzy. He still gave it a try, not having much hope that the injections would make much of a difference. 

“Swallow,” he ordered, adding oral painkillers to the mix. Maybe he should pour half a galleon of Pitrarian brandy after them. 

Duff was quick and Slash felt extremely grateful that he had another pair of hands to help out instead of having to deal with both, Axl and Izzy on his own. 

“How’s Axl?” Izzy rasped. 

“Awake,” Duff said. “Clearheaded. Apologetic. Tied up.”

“You can’t just leave him alone if he’s tied up,” Izzy started and Slash quickly held down his arm.

“I put the remote to the intercom in his hand.” Duff was equally fast and had both hands on Izzy’s shoulders to keep him from sitting up. He turned to Slash. “What do you need me to do?”

Slash explained the situation to him and Duff turned a little pale, but stayed composed enough at the prospect. At least he didn’t faint at the view of Izzy’s destroyed arm. Together they restrained him in place as good as possible and in addition Slash showed him where to put his hands on shoulder and upper arm. 

“Hold down with all you’ve got,” Slash admonished. “You can use your whole bodyweight. Will be a bitch on the shoulder, but can’t be helped.”

“Can’t you give him something against the pain?” Duff asked, a little green around the nose. 

Slash didn’t have time to enlighten Duff about Izzy’s specific genetic set up, and how it interfered with a lot of modern drugs.

“Already have,” he said instead. “We need to get that bone fragment away from the artery. One muscle twitch is enough to make it shift. And we’ll do it now, no matter whether that shit works or not.”

“I’m right here, you know?” Izzy grated out. “Care to ask about my opinion?”

“No,” Slash said, not even looking at him. “You clear about it, kid?”

Duff nodded, indicating he had understood, and pushed down. Izzy whimpered and his eyelids fluttered.

“Ok, chief, starting now.”

Slash worked as fast as he could, but there was only so much he could do if he wanted to apply the necessary precision. Duff did a good job at keeping Izzy’s thrashing under control. He managed to blend out the screams and concentrate on his job.

“I think he fainted,” Duff said, when they were halfway through.

“Good,” Slash replied. “Almost done here.” 

The bone fragments were aligned correctly, now all they needed was a drop of boneglue and if the freaking stuff did its job for once, they should be good in about a week. At least so far Izzy had always reacted fairly well to boneglue. Tissueglue was another issue. Being a space gipsy came with a fuckton of problems, one of them being that his body tended to just reject it, just as it rejected pain killers and most antibiotics and anything else one needed on a regular basis. 

He slathered a generous amount of tissueglue onto the arm, just for the heck of it, not even expecting it to do any good, and put a couple of stitches on top of it right away instead of waiting if it worked. He was pretty proud of his handywork. When one grew up on space ships, far away from medical help, one acquired quite a lot of abilities, but suturing he had learned extra for Izzy. Nobody else needed it after all and the only reason it was still practiced now and then was that it was so cheap, even those on the lowest end of society could afford it. 

“Hand me the splint.” He took it from Duff without looking up and fit it carefully around the arm. 

After Axl had come onboard, Izzy had invested into the advanced stuff, especially when it came to treating broken bones. The splint was one of the fancy types that automatically moulded itself exactly around the shape of the limb, and while Slash wished it was the first time he got a chance to actually use it, that was far from the truth. 

“Done.” Slash sat back and wiped sweat off his forehead. “You can remove the restraints.

“Where did you learn that?” Duff asked amazed.

“MeTube,” Slash said. “Sorry,” he added, when Duff looked as if he was waiting for the punchline. “No joke. You’d be amazed what you can learn there. Come on, let’s put the shoulder back in before he wakes up.”

Setting the shoulder was easy compared to what he had just done. He moved the scanner upwards and checked for additional damage besides the dislocated joint, but they were lucky. Then he moved the arm until the joint head was free and pushed it back into the socket. He piled up cooling pads around the shoulder and when he was done, he really, really wished for a drink. He looked at the clock and noticed that it was way past midnight. Slash cursed inwardly. He still had to make a round over the ship, do Izzy’s shit in addition to his own and check on Axl. Not much of that could be pawned off on Duff. 

“Let’s get him hooked up to the good stuff and hope he’ll sleep through the night.” 

Izzy’s lids fluttered. For a few seconds all Slash saw was white, but then the he opened his eyes. They were a bit clouded at first, as if he wasn’t fully there yet. 

“Back with us, Iz?” Slash asked while he administered the first injection. 

“Bastard,” Izzy muttered his answer. 

Slash briefly brushed his hand over Izzy’s forehead and smiled down at him. “I see you’re all yourself again.”

“Did it …”

“All went well.” He pushed the first injection in, then the second and the third. Hopefully at least one or two would do their job. “Will you lie still for a while or do I have to knock you out?”

“Axl,” Izzy started, but Slash interrupted him. 

“I’ll check on him if you promise to stay put. Put as in exactly where I put you. Which is on your back, on this stretcher.”

“Who died and made you captain, huh?” Izzy muttered, but he did move his head in something that Slash interpreted as agreement. 

“Good. Duff will stay with you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Izzy grumbled. 

“Duff,” Slash went on without even acknowledging the complaints. “He tries to do as much as sit up, you hit him over the head. Use … “ he looked around for a suitable tool and came up empty, “… whatever you can find. He’s got a hard skull, so no worries, you can’t do much damage.”

Duff looked a little ill at ease at the suggestion. He probably expected having to do it, but Slash hoped the injections would make Izzy at least drowsy and a bit easier to handle. 

That left Axl to him.

Just as Duff had said, Axl was lucid. He looked up when Slash entered, but averted his eyes quickly. Ashamed, Slash knew. He’d always been. 

“How’s Izzy?” he asked. His voice was rough. 

“Fixed.” Slash sat down at his bedside. “Broken arm. He’ll gripe for a bit and be as good as new in a week.”

“I didn’t mean to…,” 

“I know, Axl,” Slash interrupted him. He was tired. Too tired to do all the consoling and reassuring Axl would need. That had always been Izzy’s job. “I just … it’s been a hard day. For all of us. Will you be OK like this for the night?”

Axl nodded, resigned, defeated, beat. “It’s fine,” he said. “I fucked up. I deserve it.”

“It’s not about deserving,” Slash quickly said. “I know Izzy’d let you loose, it’s just … Izzy’s still out of commission and I just… this is growing a bit over my head, you know.” 

He made an all-encompassing gesture at Axl, the domestic floor and its inhabitants, the whole fucking ship, if he was honest. 

“Look, I’ll send Duff down to camp out with you, OK?”

“You don’t have to…,”

“Yeah, no, I know. But Duff won’t mind.” 

And it would give him some peace of mind himself, if Axl was not alone. Who’d know what he’d do, choke on his tongue probably, just to make his day more miserable than it already was. 

“So, see you tomorrow. I’ve gotta look after …,” the engine room, the navigational system, his other patient. He quickly made his round before he returned to the sick bay. To his relief all was good on that front. Izzy was dozing away and Duff had regained his colour. 

“Do you mind camping out in Axl’s room tonight?” Slash asked.

“Sure,” Duff said, obliging as always. The kid was really a godsent, sweet, capable, willing. “Anything especially…”

“No. You can sleep, no need to hold vigil next to him. I’d just feel better if somebody was in the room. Izzy usually lets him go and just locks the door from the outside, but, really, I can’t deal with another incident.”

He wasn’t made for this shit. He still remembered vividly the weeks when Izzy had been down for the count with his burned back. All the decisions that had to be made, the daily hassle that had to be taken care of, it just wasn’t his cup of tea. Slash prided himself to be a hard working man, he loved tinkering with the engines, he knew the XXG inside out and listen to her purr contently filled him with joy, but all those mundane tasks that came with actually running a ship tended to escape him. 

It wouldn’t be this bad, he reminded himself firmly, just a broken arm. Izzy would be ready to take over once he was past the worst of the pain and had slept off all the drugs, so why was he so jittery? Especially now, that he had taken care of everything that needed taking care and had finally time to rest?

Why did he keep thinking again and again of those few weeks, when Izzy had been wasting away under his hands, drugs not taking, his body rejecting everything they gave him? He could almost smell the stench of festering wounds again, saw the raw flesh before his inner eye, heard Izzy moan and whimper in his delirium. 

And back then he hadn’t been able to tie Axl to his bed or even keep him in his cabin. He had needed him to run the ship and keep Izzy alive at the same time. The fear of yet another rage had been constantly at the back of his mind. He had barely slept, hardly eaten at all, and when Izzy had finally, finally made a turn for the better, he had slept for hours on the floor right next to him. 

But this incident wasn’t like the disaster all those years back and he shouldn’t be so … so … shell shocked. 

Forcefully Slash cleared his head. He wouldn’t sleep on the floor this time. Izzy was stable enough, he could be moved to his own bed. 

“Help me get him to his cabin,” he said when Duff was already at the door. “We can put him to bed.”

Izzy, made compliant by the amount of chemicals in his system, followed meekly when he was propped up and directed and dragged along the corridor only to be laid down again. In a last joint act, they rid him off his boots and pants and covered him with his blanket. Then Duff left and Slash decided that Izzy’s bed was big enough and rolled up next to him. 

It was hours later when he woke, probably sometime around the early morning hours, because Izzy was stirring next to him. Groggily he worked himself up and found his captain looking at him. 

“Don’t tell me you molested me while I was passed out,” he said. 

“Don’t overestimate your sex appeal,” Slash replied. “How’re you feeling?”

“Peachy, Mom. Can I have cocoa pops for breakfast?”

“You can have another load of antibiotics. And what exactly do you think you’re doing there?” he added when Izzy made moves to get up. 

“I need to take a piss,” he snapped. “Wanna join me?”

“Actually, yes.” Slash got up. “I’ve had my quota of emergency surgery for the week, I’m not going to scrape your brain matter off the tiles.”

“Phh,” Izzy made. “Do you also want to hold my dick for me while I’m peeing?”

“If you can’t manage yourself? I’m here to assist.” 

He grabbed Izzy around the waist and helped him up. 

“How’s Axl?”

“Fine! And why is that always your first question?”

They started their way to the bathroom, but Izzy was more secure on his feet than Slash had expected. In fact, after a couple of steps he let go and sent him on his way. 

“And sit down while peeing!” he yelled when the door closed. 

He probably should really check on Axl, but he was too exhausted to get up for good. He dropped back onto the bed, and decided it was unfair that Izzy had a far better mattress than he had himself. 

When the door opened again, Izzy looked almost like himself. He moved with poise and didn’t look as if he was in much pain. 

“You did a good job,” he said when he lay back down. “Thanks for that. Really. Don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Bled out on the floor,” Slash retorted. “You can thank me by allowing me off the freaking ship at the next stop. I really need to get laid.” 

All the horrible innuendo and sexual tension over the last days shouldn’t have made him horny, but it did. 

“Getting laid is what brought you onto this ship,” Izzy shot back. 

“Sure. But she was worth it.” 

Slash sank back into the pillow. Which was better than his own, too. They really needed to have a crew meeting about that. 

“Was she?” Izzy asked and to Slash’s surprise there was no malice in his voice. 

Izzy knew the gist of the story, of course, but they had never talked much about it. Izzy thought he was stupid, risking everything for a woman.

“Yeah,” Slash replied. “She was … it wasn’t just getting laid. It was more.” A lot more. He had been so in love as only a twenty-year-old could be. 

“Tell me,” Izzy said, his voice unusually mellow. Maybe he was still a little doped up. 

“About Lis? She was cool and adventurous and funny. Always said she’d try everything once. But to be honest, most things she tried twice.”

“Like you?”

“Oh, she tried me more than twice,” Slash laughed. The memory didn’t hurt that much anymore. It was rather bittersweet. “We wanted to run away, get on a ship, see the universe.”

“The only daughter of an ambassador of the realm,” Izzy continued for him. “You really must have the special touch, Slash.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t all about sex. We just clicked.” 

He didn’t tell that she had heard him play guitar, back in the day when he was still playing, and that she had come to him afterwards and declared that she wanted him to play that tune on her body. And he had done it. To the last note.

“It’s been so long ago,” Slash said. “Why don’t they take the bounty down? There’s no risk I’ll come near her ever again.”

“Because then her father would have to admit that you were framed and that you weren’t involved in drug trafficking – not that there is anything wrong with drug trafficking in my opinion - and that he had you set up to make sure you stayed away from his baby girl. And that would be the end of his career. And then maybe because he doesn’t give a rat’s ass and doesn’t even think about you anymore. So, really Slash, I wish there was a way to clear your name, but there isn’t.”

“No,” Slash agreed. “There isn’t.” 

At least Lis had been able to give him early warning, so that he had been able to escape from the planet. By becoming the only crew member of some shady character named Captain Jeffrey Isbell who had been unable to run his derelict ship on his own any longer. And who, when they hadn’t even been in space for more than a day, had pulled up his warrant of apprehension on the system and let him know that he didn’t give a fuck about it. Slash hadn’t believed one word coming out of his mouth, but it had been his only chance at escape. The XXG was in nightmarish condition and he was pretty sure half of the cargo was actually stolen goods or contraband or both. That had been before he had known that Izzy collected strays. 

“She is married now,” he added. 

“Is she?”

“To some guy out of her own circle. Some lawyer or shit.”

“How did you know?”

“Happened to stumble across an article.” 

He didn’t confess that he had been scouring the society tabloids for news about Lis. Her family showed up every now and then, mostly for attending charity events. The wedding had hardly been a headline, but it had been covered. 

“It was years ago,” he said. “I’m over it.” 

Sometimes it still stung, but most of the time it was true. He liked his life. There were enough planets where the bounty wasn’t valid, and a hunter would have to kidnap him and drag him off planet in order to collect. Slash also didn’t think that he was notorious enough to be really hunted and his case was an old one. But the bounty was substantial and there might always be somebody who still had the old cases present. 

“Next stop is Loomah,” Izzy said. “It’s rather slave friendly. Not as uptight as Pitraria. I think it would be good for Duff and Axl to get off the ship, too.”

“Speaking of Axl,” Slash started. “Treatment. Can you do that with one arm?” 

“I’ll get Duff to assist.”

“I can, too, if you want.”

“No, let Duff do it. He saw how Axl can be, it’s time he learns to deal with it. And I’d say, he held his own well enough. His first Axl-rage and he jumped right in.”

“He did really well,” Slash agreed. “Treat him right, OK?”

“Still concerned about my depravity?”

“No,” Slash said. “Not like that. I’m just afraid it might soon mean more to him than it does to you. You’re stockholming him like woah.” 

“Hm,” Izzy made. “And would that be so bad? He won’t ever be free again. Would it be so bad if he … dunno … made his peace with his fate? As much as that’s possible?”

It was a good question, Slash had to admit and he pondered it for a while. 

“Depends,” he finally said. “Just wondering if you are ready for that. If he grows attached to you and you drop him… And you’ve already got Axl. Really wanna care for a second pet?”

“Hm,” Izzy made again, but he didn’t say anything else. When Slash looked up after a moment, he noticed that he had fallen asleep.


	12. Treatment

Duff overslept. He had dragged some blankets into Axl’s cabin and rolled up in a corner, not expecting much sleep. But Axl had been very quiet, and when exhaustion finally overcame him, he slept deep and dreamless until he was woken by a hand on his shoulder. 

Startled he looked up, and there was Slash, looking like he had been through the mill. His hair was a rat’s nest on top of his head and what was visible off his face spoke of lots of worries and very little sleep. 

“Sorry,” Slash said. “I’d let you sleep, but…,” 

Duff looked over to the bed and noticed that it was empty. 

“Where’s Axl?” he asked, upset that he had let him escape. 

“Sickbay,” Slash said. “Sent him ahead. You were so deep asleep … Anyway, Izzy is back up and wanted to start his treatment. But he needs a second pair of hands. You feel up for it?”

“Axl’s treatment?” Duff asked hesitantly. “You mean the electroshocks? To his brain?”

“He told you?” Slash asked surprised. 

“Yeah, he … we talk a lot, I guess.” Duff rubbed his eyes. He didn’t feel up to it. Not at all. But somebody had to do it and that somebody would be him, or so it seemed. 

“So, think you can do it? Izzy’ll be there and let you know what’s needed. Mainly somebody with two working hands and I have to …”

“Yeah… yeah sure.” Duff got up. Somebody had to run the ship, he supposed and that definitely wouldn’t be him. “Do I have time for …,” he motioned down his sweaty clothes. 

“Yeah, you can also grab a cup of coffee, just … hurry a bit, OK?”

Duff did his best to hurry up, but everything was still a little sluggish. Things had been happening so fast over the last weeks, one blow after the next, that he had a hard time to just keep running along. 

And now this. Had it really been yesterday that he had been sitting in Axl’s cabin, finding out about the electrodes? Which he was now supposed to use? Then, only a couple hours later, Axl had shattered Izzy’s arm with the same ease he employed when opening jars of tomato sauce, and he’d had to assist in the most gruesome procedure of his life.

And now he was supposed to … He had no idea how it would be, was the problem. Would Axl scream? Would he be in pain? Fight it?

He had known that Axl was a wee bit stronger than a typical human, but he hadn’t thought it would make such a difference. Izzy’s arm had snapped like a twig. He had stood no chance at all, and if Slash hadn’t shocked Axl down, he wondered if Izzy still would have two arms attached to his body. 

The enormity of what Izzy and Slash had been taking on when they had integrated Axl into the crew, had hit him like a jackhammer. He wished he could say he’d done the same in a similar situation, but he wasn’t so sure.

Duff would have loved to just hide and get his thoughts in order, but a moment of peace, and maybe even proper breakfast, was asked too much on this ship. He did grab a mug of coffee and some protein bars and hurried towards the sick bay. If what lay ahead was located as deep in the gruesome department as yesterday’s stint as doctor’s assistant had been, he couldn’t do it on an empty stomach. 

When he entered, Axl was sitting on the stretcher, calm and pale. The bandana was off and his hair hung loosely over his shoulders. Izzy, Duff noted with relief, was a lot better. He carried the injured arm in a sling and was been fiddling with the computer system. 

“Hey,” Duff said. “Somebody hungry?” He held up the loot from the kitchen. “Or did you guys have time for breakfast?”

“Gotta keep an empty stomach,” Axl said and Duff felt like an idiot.

Izzy shook his head, too, but without asking he took the mug out of Duff’s hand and sipped before handing it back.

“You’ve got a moment to finish,” he said and Duff sat down on a chair nearby, watching. 

There was no animosity between Izzy and Axl, not even tension. They were not quite back to normal yet, both of them probably too tired to do much of their usual bantering, but that was all. 

“OK,” Izzy said eventually and Duff knew it was his clue to finish eating. 

He gulped down the last bite and put the cup away. Axl hopped off the stretcher and stripped. Completely. 

“Yeah, not pretty,” he muttered, when he saw Duff’s stare. 

“Sorry, it’s not that,” Duff replied. He was tempted to look away, but instead he looked up and into Axl’s eyes. “Just surprised.”

… by the extent, he should have added. He had known that Axl bore scars, had seen them on his belly, but the sheer amount of them was sickening. They were everywhere and not only from whippings. There was a patch on his left thigh that looked as if he had been dragged over rough tarmac, and a perfect circle of small round burns sat high on the other one. 

“Can we move on?” Izzy asked and held up a bunch of cables in his good hand. 

“Sure,” Duff said. 

“Axl said you know the gist? He told you?”

“Just … very general,” Duff replied. 

“Yeah, so these,” Izzy brandished the cables, “go to the electrodes. They are numbered. This is important. Look at the number on the electrode and attach the right cable.” 

That sounded easy enough, Duff thought. In general.

“Can I …” he waited for Axl’s curt nod before he wiped his hair away and searched for the buttons. It was a tedious procedure, the cables got tangled, hair was always in the way and he couldn’t for the heck of it find number eight on Axl’s head. But eventually everything was attached as it was supposed to be and after doublechecking everything, Izzy nodded his approval. 

“Now help him lie down without dislodging anything. Fuckers are a bit slippery.”

Awkwardly Duff tried to keep the cables sorted while Axl lay back. It felt so wrong having him so pliant under his hands. This wasn’t really Axl, something whispered in his mind, just some stranger who happened to come by and look like him. 

Luckily only cable number seven came loose and Duff gingerly attached it again. 

“Vital signs,” Izzy said and handed Duff another bunch of equipment. “Heartrate, blood pressure, body temperature, oxygen level.” 

Duff needed some direction to place everything correctly, but eventually Izzy was content. 

“Cuffs,” he ordered next. There were docks attached to the stretcher and Duff moved them into the correct position to click them to Axl’s shackles. They really had rigged the ship to deal with his hang-ups. 

“Head needs to be restrained, too. Mind the electrodes.”

This was one of the trickier parts, mainly because of all the cables he had to work around, but he managed. By now the weirdness of getting Axl ready to have his brain rearranged had worn off and he felt more secure in what he was doing. It helped that Axl just held still, not even complaining when he fucked something up and had to start over. Duff had never seen him so patient. Maybe the rage had dried up all his energy. 

“Right. Drops.” Izzy handed him a tiny bottle. “Sometimes Axl’s eyes don’t close and then he needs these. You can put them in now, they’ll keep.”

Duff had never administered eyedrops even to himself, and Axl flinched when something amounting to a small waterfall landed in his right eye. Still he didn’t make a single sound of complaint. 

“Sorry,” Duff said and was a bit more careful with the second eye. “That’s all?” he asked. 

“Almost.” Izzy held something like a rubber gag in front of Axl’s face and Axl bit down on it. “This’ll keep the tongue out of the teeth’s way. Come over, I’ll show you the settings. Might be helpful if somebody else knows how to do this shit.”

Duff was glad to turn his attention away from Axl and joined Izzy at the screen. 

“Doesn’t Slash know…”

Izzy shook his head. 

“It’s a set program. Duration, intensity, nothing you have to change. Nothing you should ever change.”

Duff didn’t need to be reminded. Even if he should ever have to do this on his own, he had no intention to fuck around with Axl’s brain. 

“All you do is activate it here and keep an eye on everything. And shut it off should you feel that something is not going as it should, but we never had that.”

Duff nodded. 

“Ready Axl?” Izzy asked and when Axl whispered his OK around the gag, he activated the system. 

Axl’s body went rigid. His eyes flew open and his face contorted into a grimace. Duff made a step back in shock. His first impulse was to stop this, cut the connection, rip the cables off his head, but of course he didn’t. 

“He isn’t aware of any of this,” Izzy said “At least he can’t remember anything afterwards. Never.”

“That’s good to know, I suppose,” Duff said weakly. 

Axl went lax, only to convulse with the next shock. And the next. His hands clenched into fists, and his eyes rolled back until only white was visible.

“It looks barbaric, I know,” Izzy leant back in his chair, but his eyes were on Axl all the time. 

“What exactly …”

“What this is doing to him?” Izzy sighed. “It’s all pretty experimental. There is a huge facility for artificial science on Erudino and that’s where we took him when everything went out of proportion. It took a while until the scientist there found the correct position and voltage for each probe, and Axl was pretty out of it during the whole process. It was all trial and error. But it does work. I know Axl told you a bit, and to be honest, we couldn’t really go on the way it was. It was either this or buy a cage.”

Axl had told the story a little differently, but Duff didn’t bother to ask for clarification. 

After a few minutes, Axl’s body suddenly went lax. 

“Was that all?” Duff asked. 

Izzy shook his head. “But the worst part is over. At least I assume it’s the worst. I don’t know what’s going on in his head during all this. Now it’s more a sequence of impulses that needs to run its course. You can even touch him, you won’t feel anything.” 

As if to show that it was safe to do so, Izzy brushed an errand strand of hair out of Axl’s forehead and closed his lids with a swipe of his hand. “Still, always keep an eye on him.”

“And this really … helps?” Duff asked. “Sorry, I just … I just don’t get it. I mean … yesterday and then … and…,”

“Yeah, it’s a bit much to take in,” Izzy interrupted his stuttering. “It does help. For a while. I’m not fond of suppressing Axl’s personality, but, since you’ve witnessed first-hand what he’s capable of, I don’t know what else we can do.” 

He sounded tired, Duff thought. Very tired. Not only like somebody who had almost had his arm ripped out of its socket the day before, but like somebody who was dealing for far too long with far too much trouble. 

“You think that’s his personality. This fury?”

“Honestly? No.” 

Izzy was running his hand up and down Axl’s naked arm in a soothing caress. Duff wondered if he even noticed. Sometimes there was a closeness between Axl and Izzy that they didn’t seem to be aware of themselves. 

Axl’s face looked almost peaceful now, his forehead smooth, his lips lax around the gag. Izzy removed it and tossed it onto the table. 

“When he comes out of this, for a few hours, he’s actually really sweet. Affectionate even. Craves physical contact. Seems totally at peace. I wonder if maybe that is his real personality, buried under all this shit they piled on top of him over the years. Doesn’t last long, though, as I said, couple of hours. Then he’s back to his old, snarky self.”

Izzy smiled as he said the last, as if he preferred snarky Axl to sweet and affectionate one. Izzy definitely was partial to a bit of bite. 

“How often do you have to do this?”

Izzy shrugged. “You never know. Last time was … uhm… maybe two month ago. Before that was over half a year. Once we did three in a single week. I thought we had outrun our luck and were back to square one, but then it was all good for quite a while. He normally tells me early enough. Yesterday that … that was a relapse into old habits.”

Duff fell silent. He watched Axl’s tranquil breathing and couldn’t stop wondering what was happening in his head now. It was unfair that he shouldn’t even know. Whether it was good or bad, he should be aware of what was happening to him instead of lying there all … powerless. Again. 

Then, all of sudden, his breathing pattern changed. It became not exactly restless, rather more purposeful, as if he was sucking in breath for a certain task. And then, to Duff’s total amazement, Axl grew hard. 

“Is that…,” he gasped. 

“Yeah, that’s normal,” Izzy said with a huff. “Happens every time. No idea if it’s really necessary or if some fucker thought it was funny to stimulate his sexual centre.”

“Does he come?” Duff asked, morbidly curious by what he was watching. 

“No. Which is the mean part. I wouldn’t begrudge him some fun out of all this shit, but, no. He just grows hard, stays hard for an eternity and then it dwindles down again. Unless I help him along. Which I normally do.”

“You…,” Duff stared at Izzy, who grinned a little sheepishly. 

“Yeah, I jerk him off.” He scratched his head and pulled his lips into an even more embarrassed grin. “Don’t tell him, OK? It’s why I convinced him he has to strip completely. Allegedly for safety reasons. If I left stains on his shorts, he’d grow suspicious. But, no, he doesn’t even know that he gets one. He has a hard enough time accepting this shit as it is, if he knew about this…” he waved at Axl’s now fully erect cock, “… it would be near impossible. But, really, just seems unfair to me. So, I help him over the threshold. Doesn’t take much.”

“Should we…,” Duff looked at Izzy’s splinted right arm. He would probably be able to do it left-handed, but…

“Lube’s in the drug cabinet.” Izzy jerked his head into the direction of the small cupboard. “He will survive it if it doesn’t happen, but if you feel up to it? Help yourself.”

Duff contemplated this a moment and decided that he was up to it. If Axl submitted to this bullshit of treatment, then Duff could very well give him a simple hand job. While he was unconscious. He fetched the lube and tried to find a good position on the corner of the stretcher. It was a bit awkward as there wasn’t much space. 

“Can I?” he asked and motioned towards the shackle. 

“For a moment,” Izzy conceded. “Just don’t get too complacent. It’s not likely that he starts thrashing at this point, but it can happen.”

Duff nodded and loosened the foot closest to him. He bowed Axl’s leg at the knee and positioned it over his lap. This was better. He coated his fingers with lube and reached for his cock. He briefly wondered if it was really OK. Axl had made clear what he thought about sex, and this wasn’t a simple wet dream. This was done to him and not even with enough care to have him finish. Duff wondered if what he was doing should be considered molesting, but there was nothing sexy about the process, neither about Axl’s erection nor about taking care of it. 

Izzy was right. It didn’t take much. A couple of strokes, a bit of petting and massaging and Axl came with a softly exhaled sigh. 

“Clean him up,” Izzy said. “If he’s sticky, he’ll be able to do the math.”

Duff did as told, and then sat down to wait for the treatment to finish. 

“Not long now,” Izzy said after a while and a minute later the system beeped. 

It took another minute for Axl to open his eyes, but even after they had removed all the equipment attached to him, Axl lay utterly still. Izzy didn’t prompt him, just stroked his hair until he was ready to sit up. Duff handed him his clothes and he dressed on his own, albeit a little uncoordinated. When he was done, he clumsily wrapped the bandana around his head. 

“Over?” he asked. “Let’s hope it’ll hold for a while.”

“Want to come to the bridge with me?” Izzy asked. Duff had noticed that Izzy often took Axl to the bridge when he was upset or stressed, and while he knew that Axl was kind of Izzy’s apprentice the way he was Slash’s, he often had the feeling that there was more behind it than obtaining navigational skills. 

“Get some food, kid,” Izzy said before they left the room. “And then you can look if Slash needs you. Tell him to only do what’s absolutely necessary and wrap it up for the day. You too. We’ll start properly again tomorrow.”


	13. Theoretically

To Izzy the bridge was home. Sometimes he thought he should put up his bed here, watching the stars through the glass front and pretending he was the only person in the whole, wide universe. For a moment he wished he had just sent Axl back to bed or foisted him off on Duff, but Axl was always with him after treatment. And Izzy felt, like he had fucked up enough lately. 

Without being prompted, Axl sat down next to the pilot’s chair and leant against Izzy’s leg. 

“I need to get you a cushion, huh?” Izzy asked. “As often as you’re sitting there.” 

But Axl seemed content. They stayed like that for a while, not doing much, except looking outside. Izzy didn’t bother to stop the auto pilot. His arm was giving him hell, his shoulder was on fire and as long as they were going into the right direction, he couldn’t find it in himself to care about much. There was one question he had to ask however, because if he wanted an honest answer, now was the moment. Soon Axl would be evasive again, would make up bullshit or simply refuse to talk. 

“Why did you wait so long?” He ran a hand over Axl’s head. 

“I thought I could manage a little longer,” Axl said. 

“Didn’t you trust me?” He did his best to not make it come out accusatory. But, yes, he was a bit miffed about it all. Here he had spent years trying to gain Axl’s trust, and only because he dared to indulge in some sort of pleasure for once, he was suddenly back to being the villain? It was unfair! Sure, he knew he couldn’t expect fairness from Axl, but his ego felt nevertheless a little bit maltreated. His arm did, too, by the way. 

“What?” Axl looked up before he settled his head against Izzy’s knee again. “No. I just… I guess I didn’t want to be the fuckup again.”

“You’re not a fuckup,” Izzy replied. “What makes you think that?” 

“Because I’m the only one who has probes poked into his brain. Seems a pretty good indicator to me.”

“You’re not a fuckup, Axl,” Izzy said, although, if he was honest, he kind of was. “Or rather, we’re all fuckups. Each of us in his own special way.”

Axl snorted. He was slowly turning into himself again, the unnatural sweetness making room for his usual self. 

“Be honest, Izzy. Why didn’t you ever fuck me?”

Izzy almost fell out of the chair. “I’m not fucking you because you don’t want to be fucked.”

“Duff doesn’t want to be fucked either.” 

“Did he say that?” Izzy asked. 

It bothered him a tiny little bit, if he was sincere. He had thought Duff had enjoyed their playtime. 

“No,” Axl admitted. “He’s full of praise about your prowess. It’s embarrassing, actually. But, come on, it’s not like he came onboard and jumped right into your bed. You pushed him.”

“A little bit.”

“Yeah, but you never pushed me. And there’s only one explanation. Because I’m a fuckup.”

Izzy removed his hand from Axl’s head and scratched his own instead. He thought about Axl back in the day, aggressive, feral, suicidal. Taking him to bed hadn’t even crossed his mind, just like one didn’t take a mountain lion to bed. Where was this even coming from? 

“Axl?” he asked carefully. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“What?” Axl sputtered. “No! Of course not.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?” 

“Yeah, well, Duff came and you automatically decided he was there for sex. When I came you did no such shit. And I bet that’s the reason.”

“Most of the time you don’t even want me to touch you, Axl. Really, it has nothing to do with Duff being any better than you. I was just pretty sure that Duff would be … amenable.”

“He pretends he enjoys it,” Axl said. 

“Yeah, well, he does,” Izzy confirmed. “That’s what got you thinking? You talked to Duff, right? He … uhm… clarified some things for you?”

“He had a shitload of really weird metaphors,” Axl muttered. “I just wondered where the difference was. Between Duff and me.”

“Axl,” Izzy sighed. So that was behind it all. Axl’s patented insecurities. “I love you just as much as Duff, OK? I’m not playing favourites.”

“Ah yeah? And would you fuck me, if I were … amenable?”

“Are you?” Izzy asked again. And when had this conversation turned from strange to bizarre?

“Let’s assume I were. Which I‘m not, just to be clear, but let’s just … assume.”

“OK,” Izzy said. “I assume.” Only the answer wasn’t as easy as Axl thought. “If you want to enlarge upon your … uhm… sexual experiences, I will of course be happy to guide you.” 

It was a blatant lie. At least the happy part. Sure, Axl was pretty, beautiful even, but he was also one hell of a complicated character. Part of Duff’s charm was the easiness with which he had come around. Duff in his bed was a pleasant distraction from the daily drama. Axl would bring the daily drama right into his bed. 

But there were only three people to choose from, and if Axl was really, all of a sudden, interested in having sex - Izzy’s brain almost short-circuited at the idea - if somebody had to assist Axl in losing his virginity, then it wasn’t anything he could just delegate. He was Axl’s master, and so far, he had never shirked from his responsibilities. 

“Is that what this is all about? You want to … have sex with somebody?”

“I just started thinking,” Axl replied, still astonishingly calm. Usually he would be yelling and storming out of the room at this point. And if Izzy was honest, he would have preferred it. It would have put an end to this bullshit. “What’s it all about. If it can really be good. And I can’t just try, can I? Makes finding out difficult.”

“No, not really,” Izzy agreed. “There’s not much variety onboard this ship.”

And offboard there wasn’t much choice for Axl either. He was a slave, worse, he was an assemblee. Half of the planets out there wouldn’t even allow him to set a foot onto their precious grounds. And even if, he couldn’t just go to a brothel and pay a whore to experiment. And they wouldn’t be anywhere long enough for him to grow attached enough to somebody to just have sex for fun. And falling in love… well, that prospect was even more unlikely. 

“Do you even want sex with a man?” Izzy asked. “Or would you prefer a woman?”

Axl looked up, surprised. “Would that be possible?”

“Theoretically, Axl. Let’s just assume it would be possible.”

“I’ve never thought much about it,” Axl said. “I mean, I don’t know any women, really. I’ve only ever seen them from afar. Genders were kept separated on Tarui. They wanted to decide whom to breed. And here, there aren’t any either.”

“Would you like to?” Izzy repeated his question. It was, after all, an important point to start at. “Have a woman that way?”

“Yeah, shit, I can’t,” Axl said. “So, no sense thinking about it. Or can I?”

There was a spark of excitement in his voice and Izzy groaned inwardly. If he’d known taking Duff to bed would fuel Axl’s so far non-existing sexual curiosity, he would have stayed celibate. 

“Well, there’s one possibility,” he admitted. “There are slave brothels.”

“Yeah, but they don’t allow slaves as punters. It’s only slaves that work there.”

“There’s one way you could … do it there. If I said, I wanted to watch.” 

There. He had said it. Did that mean he had suggested to do it? No, definitely not!

Thankfully Axl looked as dubious as Izzy felt. “And would you watch?”

“I would have to, Axl,” Izzy said. “If I left the room, I’m pretty sure the girl wouldn’t go on.”

“That would be fucked up,” Axl said. 

‘Pretty much,’ Izzy thought. 

“Or wouldn’t it? Theoretically speaking.” 

Well, there they were going again. Axl sounding out his options. Which were not very plentiful. 

“I mean, did you ever watch somebody do it before? I mean, they did that often enough on Tarui, watching how one of us got fucked and most of the time they didn’t care if we were watching either, but I don’t think that’s …”

“No,” Izzy said. “I mean, yes, I did watch, but not like they do on Tarui. Not when somebody was …” raped, his mind finished. 

But it wasn’t really true. He had surely seen slaves perform at strip clubs. He had never liked the slave brothels much, the whores there were too cowed for his taste, but he would lie if he said he hadn’t been around that scene a lot. You couldn’t really avoid it, if you wanted to have a good time on shore now and then. So, yes, he had seen slaves being taken and it was unlikely that they had been begging for it.

Taking Axl to fuck a slave girl wouldn’t be exactly philanthropic either. He could try to justify it by stating that Axl didn’t want to hurt anybody and he wouldn’t be indifferent to the girl’s plight. It was exactly the other way round, he wanted to know if it could really be good. For both participants. That might make it marginally better, but definitely not by much. 

Axl hummed under his breath. “So you did watch? While somebody else was doing it?”

“Yes,” Izzy admitted. He should be lying, but he never lied to Axl about anything that was important. He might lie to Slash, to Duff, and definitely to anybody else, but right from the start he had been honest with Axl. 

“Would you let me watch? I mean when you are doing it?”

“Now that…,”

“I mean, when it’s Ok for you to watch me, would it also be OK for me to watch you? Theoretically?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Izzy said, but really, only theoretically, he wanted to add, preferably screaming. 

“With Duff? ‘cause, if he likes it so much, then I’m sure you must be doing something right. And I don’t think I know how to do it right and if I just did it with some girl, I wouldn’t want to … hurt her. I would want her to feel like Duff does when you do it.”

And there they were again, right at the bottom of the problem. The probability of Axl making some slave girl happy while fucking her in a brothel was slim to none. 

“I don’t think Duff would be keen on … that,” Izzy said weakly. At least he hoped so. He had no idea what Duff was keen on. Maybe he got off on being watched. Leave alone that making it good for somebody took practice. Lots of practice. Definitely more practice than Izzy was willing to provide for Axl. 

“Oh,” Axl said. “Ok.” 

“Yeah, like … well” Izzy said eloquently, thinking desperately about a change of topic. F  
For a while Axl was really quiet. It was just when Izzy thought he had successfully skirted around disaster and had resumed petting his hair, when he heard Axl’s voice again, very softly and very, very insecure. 

“Would you really do that for me? Go and find some girl?”

“Yes, Axl,” Izzy said, knowing his fate was sealed. “I’d do that for you.”

+++

Later that evening, after dinner – for which Duff had disregarded the food list – again, and they really had to talk about that - and had just cooked one of Izzy’s favourite meals – Izzy was in his cabin and thought about undressing. His shoulder was pulsing, his arm was giving screeching notions of discontent with every muscle twitch, and he belated realized that Slash had fiddled him into his shirt that morning. Why the hell hadn’t he dressed into something with buttons? Or even better, gone half naked? 

He was just contemplating destroying another shirt, when there was a knock at the door. 

“Yeah,” he snapped at the system. “Open.” 

The door slid open and there was Duff, dressed in sweats, a bag in his hand, looking like he came directly out of the supersonic shower and had forgotten to tame his hair afterwards. He always looked like someone had electrocuted his hair, but today it was especially spectacular. 

“I brought cooling packs for your shoulder,” he said, slightly lifting his baggage. “Slash said you should have been putting them on all day, but that would have been a lost cause anyway, so he didn’t try make you do it.”

“What would I do without you all, huh?” Izzy muttered. “Speaking of which, help me with my shirt. Can’t get it over my head.”

Duff put his bag down next to the bed, stepped over to him and reached for the hem of the t-shirt. 

“Why didn’t you put on something with buttons?” he asked. 

“If I only knew,” Izzy retorted. “You up to the job?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Duff replied. “Just don’t want to…,” he gingerly pulled up the hem, “Ok, left arm first.”

Izzy worked his left arm through, then his head and then Duff pulled the shirt carefully down over his right arm.

“You also need help doing your back,” Duff announced, his tone brooking no dissent. 

“It can wait a day,” Izzy replied for the heck of it. 

“No, it can’t,” Duff retorted lightly. “Get on the bed, face down, I get the cream.”

“You’re awfully bossy, did anybody ever tell you that?” Izzy said. 

“Now and then,” Duff replied, not at all offended. “Get comfortable, I’m right with you.”

Izzy thought about fighting this through out of mere principle, but came to the conclusion that it really wasn’t worth it. He kicked off his boots, got rid of his pants and clad only in his shorts, he did as prompted. His arm was a bit difficult to arrange in this position, but he found a posture that didn’t hurt any further. 

Duff returned as promised, but before he started working on his back, he arranged the cold packs around his shoulder. Izzy hissed, but soon the coldness turned numbing and he started to relax. 

“Make it quick, I need my beauty sleep,” he mumbled when something not quite as cold was gently spread over his burned skin. 

Duff didn’t seem too intent on making this quick. Izzy dimly remembered his talk about having to ‘work this shit in’ and that was exactly what he was doing. He started at Izzy’s shoulders, carefully avoiding the mangled joint, and massaged cream into his skin with strong, deft fingers. Duff was nobody to slack off, and so he repeated this process with every single square inch of skin there was, taking extra measures at some areas he declared too dry or too tight or whatever else bothered him about them. 

Izzy was past complaining. He groaned his appreciation when Duff took care of some tense muscles on the way down, and only pointed at the nightstand drawer when asked for the massage oil. 

“Shorts off,” Duff ordered and Izzy was too far gone to remember that he was the one giving orders. 

“You’re awfully bossy,” he repeated while lifting his hips just enough for Duff to get him fully naked. 

“You know,” Duff said while continuing his ministrations in the non-burned areas of his body. “Somebody really has to take care of you. I mean, you take care of all of us all the time. It’s only fair.”

“I do no such shit,” Izzy replied, too at ease to put up a real fight. He was no mother hen. And he didn’t take care of anybody but himself. And maybe Axl, because Axl was unable to take care of himself. But that was all. Didn’t Slash keep telling him that he was a ruthless bastard? Right after accusing them of the ‘c’-word. Izzy didn’t do ‘compassion’, never had, never would. He could tell Duff that, but he had now reached a state of utter relaxation. The kid had magic fingers. He really should take advantage of that more often. 

Duff’s hands were on his ass now, being just as thorough there as they had been everywhere else, and what did that tell him that it didn’t even bother him? 

“You do,” Duff contradicted once again. He was really in a difficult mood tonight. Where had his sweet, shy slave boy vanished to? “The way you are with Axl … nobody would put up with this. Really, nobody.”

“Well, somebody has to,” Izzy muttered into the pillows. He bent his leg obligingly when Duff decided to get his hands around his thighs, first around one, then the other and then, probably because he was Duff, between them.

“You don’t have to…,” 

“Hush, I want to.” Duff didn’t do anything fancy this time, he was just sure, practiced, satisfactory. Izzy rolled to his side, just enough so that his dick was no longer trapped under his body. He sighed contently while Duff worked him up first, then moved one hands down to his balls, then back to his buttocks and then …

“Don’t even think about it,” Izzy said sternly when he felt one finger circle his hole. 

“I’ve got all this excess oil on my hands,” Duff replied, but his movement had stopped. Sadly, also the one around his cock. 

“Not gonna happen,” Izzy repeated. “Get it out of your head.”

“Don’t tell me you have never…”

Izzy propped himself up on his good arm and looked back over his shoulder.

“Yes, Duff, I have. Doesn’t mean you will. Not now, not ever. Now finish.”

He laid back down and with an unhappy humph Duff completed what he had started.

“Done,” Duff he said unnecessarily, for Izzy knew when he had come. 

He rolled over and arranged his arm more comfortably on his belly. Duff readjusted the cold packs around his shoulder and stretched out next to him. It occurred to Izzy that he should throw him out of his bed, right now, make it clear they weren’t some lovey-dovey couple, just had a mutually beneficial arrangement, but somehow, he couldn’t be arsed. Having Duff snuggle up to him, warming his not-cold side, was comfortable. 

“You know,” Duff, who wasn’t even the slightest bit miffed by the former rejection, said. “Axl told me some weird shit today.”

“Axl always tells weird shit.” Izzy put his head on Duff’s shoulder, and Duff wrapped an arm around him. 

“Yeah, but he asked me if he could watch while we had sex.”

Izzy coughed and scrambled to sit up. Duff followed. “He what?”

“There was a whole of a lot more talking,” Duff explained, “but the gist of it was, if I was OK if he could watch us have sex.”

“What did you say?” Izzy asked. 

“I said, sure, no problem, let’s set a date.”

“You what?” Izzy sputtered. “Duff, are you…”

Duff flopped back onto the bed, giggling. 

“Jerk.” Izzy punched him lightly. 

“I told him you wouldn’t like it,” Duff replied, wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes. 

“Uhm,” Izzy made, trying to get the uncomfortable feeling under control that started to spread through his mind. “You foisted this off on me?” 

Duff looked up at him from under his blonde mop. Who even had hair like that? Sometimes it was worse than Slash’s. “I said you’re the boss and it was ultimately your decision,” he expounded. “That it wasn’t really up to me.” 

Izzy groaned. “Duff, you didn’t!”

“What’s the problem?” Duff asked, puzzled. He propped himself up against the headboard again. “Just tell him it’s not done.”

Izzy looked away. “I might have kind of told him that I was OK with it, but that you wouldn’t like it.”

“You didn’t!” Duff sputtered. “You did? Why would you do something like that?”

“What do I know?” Izzy snapped. “He was so … so …, damn, you’ve seen how he is after treatment. And we had this really, really bizarre talk about sex and how he didn’t know any about it, and then it kind of came up.”

“Awesome,” Duff said. At least he wasn’t laughing anymore. In fact, he looked thoroughly sobered up. “That’s not gonna go down well.”

“No,” Izzy agreed. Axl didn’t deal well with having admissions revoked. “So, how do we get out of this?”

“How did we even get in?” Duff asked, agitated. 

“In the most fucked up way you can think of,” Izzy said, but then he decided that he needed somebody to at least bounce ideas off, and Duff was better qualified when it came to slaves and their disturbing sex life than Slash. He retold the whole conversation he’d had with Axl, watching how Duff’s face turned more and more astonished as he proceeded. 

“You promised him you’d take him to some brothel to watch him have sex with a whore?” he asked when Izzy was done. 

Summarized like that it sounded rather crude, Izzy thought. 

“That won’t work,” he added. “I mean, it would work if it was just about Axl fucking somebody, but that’s not what he’s after. He wants to know about … dunno … affection, I think. Or at least tenderness. He doesn’t just want to get off.”

“I know,” Izzy said exasperated. “Only how do we get him that?”

Duff sucked in a deep breath and his forehead wrinkled a little with the exertion of thinking. 

“It might work, but not if you just drop him off and tell him to have a go at some poor girl. I don’t think Axl even knows how foreplay works. When we’re watching movies, ever noticed how he always leaves the room when there’s some type of sex scene?”

Izzy hadn’t noticed. Maybe he should have.

“Yeah, he either needs the loo or get more snacks or drinks or whatever. He can’t even watch it on TV, ‘cause it’s so abhorrent to him. If you really want to sic him at some chick, he needs … I guess… instructions first.”

“Porn?” Izzy suggested. 

Duff rolled his eyes. “Ever seen proper foreplay in porn? That would only weird him out more. Plus, he won’t be able to perform like that. He will be insecure and awkward and probably get soft at least a dozen times. Which will frustrate him. Which will make him aggressive. Which will not bode well for the girl in question.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Izzy groaned. “Ok, I have to tell him it’s not gonna happen. Which he won’t like. Not.at.all.”

Duff nodded. Izzy wasn’t looking forward to it, but Duff was right. This just couldn’t happen, no matter how vulnerable Axl had been earlier, and how much Izzy had wanted to do something nice for him. He would blame it on the drugs Slash had given him. That was the perfect excuse. Blame Slash. 

“You know,” Duff said after another round of what amounted to deep thinking. “Would it be so bad to let him watch?”

“Duff!” Izzy squeaked, aware that he sounded like a little girl. But he just couldn’t believe what had just come out of Duff’s mouth. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been watched,” Duff admonished. “Spacer? Ports? Brothels?” 

“Yeah,” Izzy conceded. “But that was different. It just happened. It’s not like somebody was putting your performance under a microscope.”

“Axl doesn’t need a big performance. He only needs to see you treat me right.”

“You’re amazingly cool with it, you know,” Izzy said. “Where’s that coming from?”

Duff grinned a bit sheepishly. “I shared a tiny apartment with four other guys. You couldn’t help stumbling in on people doing shit all the time. And I worked a lot in bars and strip clubs.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow. 

“No, not the stage. But there was lots of sex and you just … had it.”

He was hiding something, but Izzy would not pry. He had a pretty good idea what it was anyway. Pretty, promiscuous, caste zero. Duff would have needed money and he wouldn’t have been squeamish. 

“This will be different,” Izzy said. And when exactly had he started to even consider agreeing to this hare-brained plan. 

“I know.”

“No sitting in the back of the room while we go at it under the covers. I will really have to show him. And you’d be the display item. Meaning, it’ll leave you totally open. You, not me.”

“I know,” Duff repeated, but he did finally look a bit uncomfortable. It was kind of relieving that he did possess some sort of decorum, even if he hid it well.

“And it’s gotta be totally plain vanilla.”

“Missionary position?”

“Definitely. You’ll moan into the pillows while on your belly, he’ll think I’m tearing you apart. He’s got to see your face and you’ll have to like what you get. You lie there, I fuck you. No topping from the bottom.”

“I’d never…,” Duff protested. 

Izzy chuckled. “All the time, Duff. All the time. It won’t be sexy either. More like a medical examination, I suppose. ‘cause dissecting it all for Axl will kill the mood. Do you think you can still keep it up?”

“Question is rather, can you,” Duff replied. “You’ll be doing the fucking.”

“And you will have to enjoy it and come all over yourself in bliss and ecstasy.”

“Hm,” Duff made. “I’m pretty easy that way.”

Izzy hummed his agreement and Duff punched him on the arm.

“Which reminds me. Do you think Axl knows enough about female anatomy? If he doesn’t even know any women?”

“Oh, fuck.” Duff groaned. “But that’s not so difficult. There should be something in the library. I guess … I can take care of that part.”

“Wouldn’t it be a hell of a lot easier if one of us just had sex with him?” Izzy asked. 

Duff shrugged. “Honestly? You can’t have him on the bottom. Not the first time. He’d freak out. So unless your stand regarding Axl is different than it is regarding me, you’re out of it. And me, I’m not sure I really want that. I mean, I probably could if I had to, but … dunno. I’m not good with … that. I know how to have a good time, but I’ve never … I don’t do virgins. I mean, you’ve got to show them somehow and, really, somebody has to, but I’d only fuck that up. So, not me. If I can help it. But I’m OK with you using me to show him. 

“And I know this is all a bit … uh… unorthodox, but on the other hand… you don’t expect people do just find out how to do other shit, but with sex, you’re supposed to just miraculously know. “

“If you’re sure,” Izzy leant back against the headboard and wrapped an arm around Duff. He laughed a little to himself. “The shit I do for you guys.” 

Duff snuggled into him. “When?” 

“Let my arm heal first,” Izzy replied. “I’ve got the feeling I’ll need both hands. So, a week at minimum. If the boneglue sets.”

“Why shouldn’t it?” Duff asked, sounding surprised. 

‘Because my genetics are not like yours,’ would have been the honest answer. “Because I have a history of failure when it comes to common drugs,” he said. “But we have time. Loomah is at least two weeks away. We’ll … uhm… slot him in somewhere week after next. Congratulation, Duff. You can officially add ‘porn star’ to your resume.”


	14. Finale

How Axl had managed to once more rule the ship with all his drama Slash couldn’t say, but there was no denying it had happened. Again. It was almost seven years now since he had thrown his lot in with Izzy. They had both been so young, barely in their twenties. Slash had scoured the port, looking for the most disreputable ship he could find and had hoped to convince the captain to take him on. The XXG had fit that description just fine, and how this scraggly, tight-lipped, barely out of his teens space gipsy had managed to get a ship of his own, had been a miracle right in itself. He still didn’t know why Izzy had separated from his clan, he only knew that it was a topic he better not brought up. 

Despite his youth, Izzy had been a demanding captain. Slash hadn’t minded. He had grown up on ships and he was a damn good mechanic. Working had also taken his mind of Lis, of his heartache and the freaking bounty on his head. He hadn’t meant to confide in Izzy, but the bastard had gotten the whole story out of him within a week. He had employed the help of a bottle of Pitrarian brandy and Slash had bawled like a little girl in his arms. Izzy had patted his head and put him to bed and Slash had woken with a huge hangover and panic that this shady character of a spacer would turn him in at the next port. Or the next after that. He had been tempted to run, but where was he supposed to go? And so, he had stayed and for unknown reasons they had passed port after port without the troops barging in. 

Their life had been almost peaceful. Work, shared evenings with movies or music blasting out of the speakers, more work, sleep, better food than Slash had ever eaten in his life, and more work. Stops at ports, a few evenings on shore, bars, girls, and back to work the next day. Slash had licked his wounds and been content. 

Then, one beautiful day on the not so beautiful planet of Tarui, Izzy had found Axl. Slash still remembered it vividly. Izzy had stepped into the kitchen with a freaking leash in his hand and attached to this leash, hands shackled behind his back and feet linked by a piece of chain, stood … something. 

“This is Axl,” Izzy had said and pointed at the dirty, beaten up creature. “He’s going to stay with us.”

Slash had nodded dumbfounded and kept staring. Axl had consisted of nothing but raw bones and big eyes. He would not talk and he wouldn’t, under no condition, tolerate anybody coming closer than six feet.

Izzy had cleaned him up, had dressed him, fed him and told him to go to work the next day. And Axl had worked. As long as he had been left alone, he had done his tasks, but that had been all. There hadn't been anything submissive or just plain grateful about Axl, like one would have expected. And he should have been grateful, Slash had sometimes thought. He had been earmarked for scrapping, for reuse of internal organs and those few bones that had still been in mint condition. And Slash had known exactly why. 

Axl would bare his teeth when somebody came too close, woud growl, scream, throw stuff and … yes… that one-time Slash had decided to not take up with his shit anymore, he had even bitten. He had demanded that Axl be muzzled and Izzy had told him, it was his own fault. 

When Axl wasn’t working, he would hide. Izzy had started locking the kitchen, so Axl had to come and eat with them, if he didn’t want to starve. At first it had looked as if he had opted for starving. But, alas, even Axl possessed at last half an ounce of self-preservation and dinner had turned from nice to interesting. Izzy would put food in front of him and Axl would spit it out. Only when given processed instant shit, he would wolf it down before vanishing again. 

“He doesn’t know anything else,” Izzy had said when Slash wouldn’t get it. “He’ll come around eventually. Give him time.” 

As long as Axl had completed his tasks, Izzy had never pushed him. He had just made offers and left it to Axl to take or leave them. He had never punished him either. Even when Axl was slacking and Izzy had to compel him to do his job, he had managed without resorting to violence. 

After a while, Axl had started to somehow defer to him. Izzy was even allowed to touch him, look after his still untreated wounds and administer the antidote shots assemblees needed. Slash hadn’t known, but according to Izzy, Axl’s body produced a molecule that would slowly kill him if it wasn’t counteracted. It was a way of making sure artificials remained dependant on their owners. 

There was the day Axl threw his shoulder out for the first time and Izzy had put it back in. Axl had lain there, eyes closed, resigned to his fate, a doll in Izzy’s hands. It was the first time Slash had noticed how much trust he had developed. It was also the first time he had realized how damaged Axl’s body was in general. 

Slash remembered the first day he heard Axl speak.

“Pass me the milk,” he had said, when he would have had to come too close to get it himself. 

Compared to his high, ear piercing screeches, his talking voice was astonishingly deep. 

Slash had handed him the milk and somehow that had broken the ice between them. 

Still, from the day Axl had come onboard, he had ruled their life. 

Slash sometimes wondered if Izzy had gotten bored, and just needed a project beside shipping stuff from A to B. He had started researching every free minute. It very fast became clear that Axl hadn’t just been scrapped because he was a nuisance. There was the nuisance part and there were the rages. 

At first, both had seemed to be just different intensities of the same thing, but after a real rage, Axl just collapsed. He was confused and looked around as if he couldn’t remember where he was or how he had gotten there. He was also apologetic, which he never was if he just got in a blue funk or hurled stuff after Slash, or screamed and yelled for no apparent reason. 

There were the bloodied fists and thrashed rooms, and Axl sitting and staring and hyperventilating in the middle of it all. There was Izzy, bleeding nose and split lips, rocking Axl in his arms like a child, trying to comfort him when he had just destroyed an entire room. 

And now? The rages were under control, Axl behaved like an actual human being and not like something wild dragged out of the woods, and life had shifted slowly back to what it had been before. Only to be turned upside down again, just because Izzy had decided to buy himself a treat. 

When Duff had stood there behind him on that first day, tall and thin and very afraid, Slash had almost gotten flashbacks. His relief, when Duff had turned out to just be a nice kid, had been immense. He had stopped worrying when it became clear that Duff considered Izzy to be some crossbreed out of superhero and sex-god and didn’t mind being sacrificed on his altar. Not at all, as it became astonishingly clear. 

Slash was happy for Izzy. Really was. Duff, caring little mother hen that he was, was good for him and while he wasn’t sure yet if Izzy was good for Duff, he was willing to put that thought on the back burner. Duff was a slave and slaves couldn’t be picky. Being Izzy’s slave was a far better lot than he could have hoped for and, yes, Duff was indeed: grateful. A trait Axl had never been able to develop. 

So, why was it all about Axl once again? Axl and his delayed sexual awakening, of all things? Why had it even happened after so many years of total asexuality? And why did it have to be so fucking grotesque? 

It hadn’t taken Slash more than a day to get out of Duff what had been bothering him. He hadn’t even needed a bottle of Pitrarian brandy for this feat, just had sat Duff down with a cup of coffee and told him to spill the fucking beans. 

“This is a joke, right?” he asked when Duff was done. “You’re not … doing that.”

“Seems like we are,” Duff replied with a slight flush. 

“Tell Izzy to call it off,” Slash demanded. “He’s lost his mind. Or maybe it’s the drugs. He sometimes has unusual reactions. Fuck, I knew I should have given him the other antibiotic.”

“It might have been my idea,” Duff mumbled. 

“Kid,” Slash all but whimpered. “Why would you do such shit?” 

“Dunno. It seemed like a good idea. Yesterday. Not so much today.” 

Slash stood up and got him a cookie. He deserved one. And then, after he had eaten, he would throttle him. 

“Duff,” Slash said, doing his best to keep his voice low. “This is a really bad idea.”

Duff nodded and chewed on his cookie. 

“What are you even going to do after … you know?” The idea of Duff lying on the bed while Izzy used him as prop in a sex lesson for Axl was mind boggling enough. But what if Axl actually liked it? What if he wanted more? Slash knew he himself would want more. Duff was cute as hell, with the personality to match, who would stop after just once? 

“What does Axl even say?” he asked. 

“Not much,” Duff conceded. “He just keeps looking at me.”

“Hungrily?” Slash asked, worried where this might be leading.

“Sad,” Duff said. “We were getting along so well. We were becoming friends. We had so much fun. And now he’s only ever sad when he looks at me”. 

Slash tore at his hair. 

“Maybe we would have gotten over it, if he’d hadn’t had this … relapse.”

Yes, that. Another way for Axl to make sure he was taking centre stage. This time he didn’t even feel bad for him. He could have stopped it. He’d gotten a forewarning and he could have gotten treatment in time to spare everybody this little episode. 

He hadn’t and Izzy was running around with a splinted arm. Again. And Izzy with his unique heritage of having his genome separated from the rest of humanity some thousand years ago, and being inbred like woah, was in this special position of not responding well to treatments. Which made him also angry at Izzy, for Izzy should have just ordered Axl to have his fucking brain rearranged. Only he wouldn’t do that because of this freaking “trust” issue between them. And when exactly had he, Slash, become the only sensible being onboard this ship? Hadn’t that always been Izzy’s task? 

“You’re really doing it?” he asked for good measure and handed Duff another cookie. 

He thought back to when he had laughed at Izzy’s notion of Axl being in love with Duff and an unpleasant thought reared its head. Maybe Axl really was jealous. But not because he wanted Duff. 

It was Izzy who had tamed Axl. Slash couldn’t claim too much credit in the process, he would have kicked Axl to the curb latest a week after his appearance, but Izzy hadn’t given up on him, hadn’t punished him, hadn’t committed any of the cruelties Axl so clearly had expected. Instead he had trained him, taught him, introduced him to a whole new life, and all that with a patience Izzy barely ever brought up for anything. 

And now, at least in Axl’s eyes, Izzy had delivered just another impossible feat, and had fucked a slave into seventh heaven. Only this slave hadn’t been Axl and if there was one thing Axl didn’t deal well with, it was being placed second.

“Seems like it.” Duff smiled weakly. “It will be OK, I guess.”

Slash wasn’t so sure. 

+++

A week was not enough, Duff decided. Yes, it had been his idea, yes, he had thought he could just do it, yes it had sounded rather easy, talking it through with Izzy. Lie back, don’t move, have Izzy do all the work, have Axl watch. 

He hadn’t reckoned with Axl’s reaction to all this. What he had expected, he couldn’t say. Excitement probably, curiosity, maybe even hysterical laughter at being made fun of so easily. Instead Axl had just nodded, looking sad, of all things, and had returned to his work, which at that moment had consisted of sorting the dirty laundry. 

Afterwards Duff had decided to push it out of his mind. He had his own work, after all. He was working with Slash, he was still doing most of the cooking and in the evening, he took care of Izzy, treated his back, had sex with him, helped him with whatever couldn’t be done with just one hand. 

After a week the splint came off and Izzy’s arm seemed happy enough. The boneglue had done its job, just the stitches would need some more time before they could be taken out. Tissueglue hadn’t worked and nobody seemed surprised. It took him another couple of days to regain full control, but then he was back to being his own self and Duff realized, it was time to set a date. 

Two days later Izzy let him know that it would be that evening. Duff was just busy cutting up yet another onion and wondered if it would be helpful to chop off a finger. He could spare one, and surely Izzy wouldn’t pull through with their hare-brained plan if he was bleeding all over the kitchen. 

Izzy leant against the door and watched him with amusement. “Second thoughts?” he asked. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t,” Duff replied. He scraped the onions off the cutting board into a pan. 

Smirking Izzy lifted one shoulder. “I suppose so.”

“It’s too late to call it off, is it?” Duff wondered if they really had to have dinner. His appetite was suddenly gone. 

Izzy’s shoulder sank back down. “I suppose so.”

“Help me cook?” Duff asked. He stared a little lost at the cutting board. “I think I forgot what I was making.”

“Make room.” To Duff’s surprise Izzy checked the recipe on the screen, then took a knife out of the drawer and started peeling potatoes. “Here. Just keep peeling, helps with not thinking.” Izzy pushed some of the potatoes into his direction and Duff joined into the peeling. 

They worked mostly in silence, Izzy telling him what to do and Duff following his directions, like he was used to. Izzy was even good at it, tweaking the recipe here and there, like he actually knew how too cook. 

Thinking of it, he probably did, with how determined he was to keep them in real food. Maybe he had even grown up on it. Only who would grow up on real food and still turn out like Izzy? Only privileged people could afford real food and nobody growing up privileged ran a ship like this, and took in the fuckups of the galaxy. 

Thank God it wasn’t an overly complicated dish. When they were done Izzy even cleared the counter. Leaving stuff around, especially sharp things like knives, was never a good idea, but usually it was Duff and Axl who did the major part of cleaning up. 

“You ready to pull through?” Izzy asked, when they were done. 

It was a last chance to get out, Duff realized and he wanted to grab it with both hands. Izzy would sit Axl down and explain to him that it wasn’t going to happen. They would instead pull up some further educational videos on the library and Axl would have to make do with them. 

Only he wouldn’t believe a single thing of what he was seeing. Duff had realized that during their studies regarding ‘female anatomy’. There had been sex scenes, although none with real people. Everything was just drawn as cartoons, as these videos were meant for children, not for grown up slaves in their late twenties. 

Axl had claimed that it was all fake and lying and if the woman had been real and not a cartoon character, she would actually be in howling in pain. 

So the only result had been that Axl now knew the difference between the various different holes a woman possessed, had been properly educated about the amazing abilities of the clitoris and that, unlike men, women lubed up on their own at least in some areas, but still weren’t made to just have a dick stuffed into them the way it was shown in those cartoons. Which led them to foreplay, the main reason Duff would soon be spread out in Izzy’s bed, and offer up his body as sacrifice to the worthy course of education. 

Axl knew what sex was, he just didn’t believe in foreplay and here the educational system of the universe showed severe lack of detail.

When it came to foreplay, the only videos Duff had been able to unearth showed a bit of kissing and then faded off into badly lit, heavily shaded pictures of people moaning and moving around under covers with a voiceover that was impossible to take serious. Although those actors had been real, it hadn’t helped that they were actually slaves. Axl hadn’t believed one word of what they were doing either. 

“It’s all nice if put like that,” he had said. “It still sucks when they eventually have to do it.”

After that, Duff had given up. He had briefly considered pulling out real porn, but if Axl didn’t believe in videos made for little kiddies, he wouldn’t believe in anything hardcore. Duff didn’t believe in porn himself after all, he knew it was all phony. 

“Duff?” Izzy prompted, when he had been staring into air for half an eternity. 

“Sure.” He forced a smile. “I guess tomorrow we’ll be laughing about all this shit.”

Izzy hugged him briefly and Duff wondered if the world was coming to an end. 

+++

Nobody was really hungry that evening. Izzy was not surprised. He wondered if he should crack some joke about them being a bunch of ungrateful bastards and how he had worked over a hot stove for them, but decided against it. The moment did not lend itself to light entertainment. 

Duff was having second thoughts, so much was clear. But at this point, it had turned into Duff’s personal problem and he would have to just get it over with. Which he would. Duff was the master of anticipating anxiety, but once he had jumped, he swam. 

Axl was another issue. He wasn’t eating at all and that was not good. When they were done, Izzy tossed him a package of dextrose drops. 

“Eat these,” he ordered. “You can come over in about ten minutes, OK?”

Axl nodded, turning from spooked to terrified. 

“Good. Duff?” 

Duff didn’t react and Izzy was running out of patience. He was the one who had given in to their bullshit, why was he now the one running the show? Oh yes, because it was always him who pulled these nitwits out of their scrapes. Good. They wanted him to take charge, he would take charge. He grabbed Duff by his upper arm, pulled him to his feet and marched him to his cabin. 

“Get a grip!” he hissed. “Now.”

“Sorry, I…”

“No sorry. No nothing. Get a grip. This show is going down, nothing you can do about it. Fucking deal with it.”

Duff nodded. “OK.” He took a deep breath. “Ok, got it.”

Cursing Izzy got a bottle of Pitrarian brandy out of his stash and handed it over. 

“Not so much!” he yelled when Duff started to gulp it down like water. He all but ripped it out of Duff’s hands and for good measure took a sip himself. 

“Ok?” he asked again and Duff nodded. He looked better, Izzy noticed, nervous, but not freaking out anymore. Just as he’d thought, when his options were limited to just one, Duff coped. “Good. We’ve gone through the script. Anything you need to get off your chest? It’s now or never.”

Duff shook his head and at that moment there was a knock at the door. Axl. 

Axl came in as if he expected the cabin to have transformed into some pompous den of inequity, and was surprised it still had its old, bland, white interior. 

Izzy forced his irritation with his two idiots down and motioned towards the bed. They sat next to each other like school children before a surprise quiz and suddenly he just wanted to laugh. 

“Last chance,” he said. “Any of you want to get out of it?” He gave Duff a warning glance, making sure he knew what his answer would have to be. This was solely for Axl’s benefit. 

Both shook their heads. 

“Good. Rules,” he added then. “I call the shots here. I say something isn’t done, means it isn’t done. No discussions.”

He got a double nod. 

“Same goes if for whatever reason I put an end to it. No complaints. We tried, it didn’t work out, shit happens.”

Nodding again. 

“Yeah. Time to start then.” He scratched his head and joined them on the bed, not sure how to begin. “This…,” he finally said to Axl while grabbing Duff by his shoulders, “is a perfect example of a person who is totally not in the mood. Normally that means, you won’t get any. Today it means, we’ve gotta put in a shitload of work to get him in the mood. When you manage that and think he might be willing to put out, then you’ve got to get him ready. Don’t prep him properly, you’ll hurt him and you’ll hurt him means it was likely the last time he gave you a chance, so… in that order: get him horny, get him prepped, get him fucked. The first thing you usually try is kissing.”

Duff took his clue and turned to face him. By now they had quite a bit of experience when it came to arranging their legs around each other and it showed. Nothing was awkward anymore. Izzy curled a hand around Duff’s nape and pulled him close. Duff moved forward and their lips met in the most unerotic way they had ever done. Kissing his kid brother, if he had one, would have been more fun than this. 

Izzy moved his mouth to Duff’s ear and gently bit his earlobe. “Come on, baby, give me something to work with,” he whispered, trying to not let annoyance bleed into his voice. He felt Duff nod against him. 

The next attempt was better. Duff wetted his lips and took initiative. He got onto his knees, placed his hands on Izzy’s shoulders and kissed him again. Izzy grabbed his hips and pulled him into his lap. Duff liked being on top of him, so he would give him that. At least for now. It did the trick, more or less. The moment he had handed Duff the reins, he grew confident. Izzy leant back against the headboard, and Duff, straddling his thighs, got almost pushy. Izzy let it happen for the moment. There was still time enough to rein him back in. 

“Good,” he whispered, doing his best to tune out Axl’s presence. “Just like that. Come on, help me out here. You know how.”

Duff, always a fan of skin on skin, pushed his hands under Izzy’s shirt without breaking the kiss, searching for the nipple ring. He liked playing with it and Izzy liked having it played with and so it was always a sure bet. Izzy muttered his approval into Duff’s mouth and pushed his tongue after his words for good measure. Duff flicked against the ring and Izzy felt the first stirrings of arousal. Now he only had to get Duff out of perfunctory mode and into the same direction. 

Slowly … everything was slow here, as they were all jumpy as jackrabbits during a thunderstorm, he pulled the hem of Duff’s shirt up an inch. Duff got the suggestion and lifted his arms. They had to stop their kissing, but then Duff was naked to the waist and Izzy decided to follow suit. He also used the chance to get his legs under himself, and when Duff attacked him with more kissing, he wrapped his arms around him and lowered him onto his back. 

This was still a moment when Duff would normally falter. He didn’t like being laid down, and as their one-handed love making over the last week had been a bit tricky, it had mainly consisted of Duff riding Izzy’s dick. It had been on his agenda to train Duff to be a bit more accepting, but it hadn’t happened yet and couldn’t be helped. 

As expected, Duff looked up a little scared. It was some leftover problem from his prison days, Izzy knew, and this wasn’t the right moment to push it. He rolled to the side, keeping Duff in place by a leg hooked over him, but making sure he didn’t feel squashed. 

“Good?” he asked and Duff nodded. 

Izzy made out Axl from the wink of his eye. He had slipped off the bed and sat on the floor, still like a statue, arms wrapped around his knees, eyes big and nervous. If this was already too much for him, how would it be once they got serious?

Buying time, he returned to kissing Duff with a bit more tongue. Duff gave head like it was an artform and the main reason for that was that it turned him on to have something in his mouth, be it a cock, a finger or a tongue. It was what Izzy had hoped for and it worked. He pressed his knee down between Duff’s legs and felt a nascent erection. Wondering how to move on, he looked over to Axl again.

“Listen,” he whispered into Duff’s ear, hoping it was low enough for Axl not to hear. “I need to get him involved.”

“But…,” Duff started and Izzy kissed him again, swallowing effectively any protest. “Trust me, he whispered. “I’ll make it good for you, but he has to...” Izzy trailed off, not sure what exactly Axl had to do. 

“Ok,” Duff breathed and Izzy rewarded him by grinding his knee harder against his cock. Duff groaned and when Izzy looked over to Axl, he was pulling himself together even further. If Axl was unable to differentiate between a pained groan and a sexy groan, things would turn out problematic. 

“Axl?” Izzy said softly and stretched out his hand. “Come.”

“I …no,” Axl stuttered.  
“Come,” Izzy repeated. “Come up here.”

In slow motion Axl crawled onto the bed. Duff, flat on his back, held out his hand and Axl took it hesitantly.

“Look at him,” Izzy said and Axl nodded nervously. “Is he aroused or scared?”

Axl looked at Duff, at his wide eyes, his elevated breathing. Izzy felt Duff’s erection falter under his stare and cursed inwardly. It had been hard enough to get Duff even a little bit horny, but being dissected like this wasn’t conducive to keeping him aroused. He moved his leg a little, giving him something to rub himself against and to his relief Duff got the hint. With a shuddering breath he closed his eyes and pressed down on Izzy’s knee, bringing himself up again. 

“I… I don’t know,” Axl replied. “I can’t say.”

“It can be difficult,” Izzy granted him when he wondered what the hell was so complicated about this. “Come closer. There’s one way to be pretty sure.” He took Axl’s hand and placed it onto Duff’s erection. “Not a hundred percent, but pretty sure.”

Axl flinched when he touched Duff’s dick, but then he spread out his hand and laid it down again. It shouldn’t scare him so much, it was just like his own.

“Time to do some unwrapping, huh?” Izzy suggested. 

“I … suppose so,” Axl whispered, but he was not able to proceed. This was going to be long and tedious. 

Izzy opened Duff’s fly and helped him wriggle out of his pants. The shorts went down with them and just as before, Izzy followed suit with his own. Having Axl fully clothed while they were both naked might have felt strange, but Izzy decided, he was past that. He would just work himself into the mindset he needed to see this through. Then all he had to do was keep Duff from ruining the show. 

He changed his mind briefly, when he noticed that Axl was staring at him now instead of Duff. Izzy followed his look down to his own erection and smirked. He wanted to say something corny, how yes, they would fit this beauty into Duff all right, but swallowed it down in time. 

He ignored Axl for the moment and dedicated himself to Duff’s pleasure instead. Izzy fished lube off the nightstand, coated his palm and reached for Duff’s dick. A few strokes were enough and Duff grew from slightly aroused to rock hard. The kid was holding up a lot better than he had expected, and Izzy made a mental note to ask him about those strip clubs again, where he allegedly hadn’t worked the stage. 

Izzy moved on top of him, letting him feel a bit of his weight, all the while working his dick and peppering his chest with kisses. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, licked, nipped, blew on it, distracting Duff enough to keep him from getting anxious. His arm had healed well enough, but propped up on his elbows, it wouldn’t carry him for longer than maybe a minute. Duff would have to take a bit of weight, when it came to completing the actual act. 

Duff moaned softly. He opened his eyes and looked directly at Axl, but before Izzy had time to sidetrack him, Duff held out his hand again. Axl took it gingerly and Duff brought it up to his mouth. He nipped at his fingertips first, then took his index finger into his mouth and suckled lightly. Bless Duff and his weird sucking reflex! 

His breathing was getting heavier, and Izzy immediately recognized the signs. If not handled properly, Duff tended to shoot a bit early, and right now that was not what they needed. 

He let go off Duff’s dick without preamble, causing him to whine pitifully. 

“Fuck, Izzy, fuck me already,” he rasped, causing Axl to look up in alarm. 

Izzy ran his hand over Duff’s cheek

“Soon, baby,” he soothed. “Just get you nice and ready first.”

“I am ready,” Duff protested, trying to sit up. Izzy wouldn’t let him. 

His legs had fallen apart and he was smeared in lube and precome. It was a sight to behold, Izzy thought. Apparently Axl didn’t mind either, if his parted lips and blown pupils were any indication. A look down to his crotch revealed that, worried for Duff or not, he was not unaffected. 

“You’re ready when I tell you,” Izzy corrected. 

Duff probably was ready; he didn’t need much preparation. But preparation was what they were here for, and Duff would have to go through the whole process, preferably without whining too much about it. He could be a bit impatient at times.

“Lie down, sugar,” he whispered and let his fingertips travel down his body. “Let me take care of you. I promise, I’ll make it real good for you. Just … a little bit later.” 

It took a bit more coaxing, but then Duff relaxed, for the moment accepting that he wasn’t going to come anytime soon. 

“OK,” he said, when Duff had settled back and Axl’s panicky expression at his sudden demand to be fucked, and right now, please, had eased off. “The trick is two things. First one: lube. Can’t use too much, but when it’s not enough, that sucks. So: when in doubt, err on the side of caution. We slather him with this stuff until its dripping out.” 

That was not the most erotic way to put it, but they were here for educational value and therefore he had to abide by practicalities. 

Izzy coated his fingers and probed around Duff’s anus. Axl’s eyes were darting up and down between watching what Izzy was doing and searching Duff’s face for signs of agony. And he hadn’t even pushed a fingertip in. Right, time to do just that. 

Normally he had Duff take two fingers at once. It wasn’t a problem, but, hey, they were going slow here, and so he started with his index finger. 

“Oh, come on Izzy, is that all?” Duff complained. He wriggled around on Izzy’s finger, trying to get more friction out of it than he was yet willing to provide. 

‘Ignore him,’ Izzy wanted to say, but that might send the wrong signals. They were after all here to learn how to not ignore their bed partner’s requests. 

“Good,” Izzy said, when he was content with the amount of lube he had worked into Duff’s passage.  
It was a lot more than he usually needed. It probably even would have been enough to fuck a whole convent of virginal nuns, if any of them were so inclined. 

“Second part: stretching. Same as with lube, you can go too fast, but never too slow or too much. So, we are going all nice and slow here, OK?”

Duff bit off some protest at the word ‘slow’, but after a bit more fidgeting he gave in to being tortured by gentleness. He bent his knees to provide better access and flopped back into the pillows, just yielding to whatever was being done to him. His erection dwindled a little, but that wasn’t a bad thing at this moment. They would bring it back up later. 

Izzy just lazily fingerfucked him, avoiding his prostate and concentrating on loosening him up without providing too much stimulation. It worked beautifully, but Duff was always easy to prep. There was never much hassle. 

“OK, Axl, help me out here,” he said, when he hardly found any resistance anymore. “Lube first.”

Axl fiddled with the bottle, but he was finally, finally either calm enough or aroused enough to participate. Maybe both.

“And now… take over for a moment.” 

Izzy watched as Axl very carefully pushed first one, then two fingers into Duff’s ass, the way he had shown him. Izzy pulled one of Duff’s legs towards himself, keeping him open, then unobtrusively held him in place with an arm over his belly, when Duff started wriggling again. Sometimes he was so fidgety, it was annoying. 

“Move a bit,” he whispered. “Spread your fingers, make sure he’s well stretched and relaxed.”

Axl obeyed. He was clumsy and not really in sync with Duff’s counter movements, but they soon found a rhythm. Izzy sat back and watched. Axl was getting better by the minute. He even reached for Duff’s cock with his free hand and rubbed slowly up and down his length, looking up at Duff’s face every now and then to see if he was doing it correctly. 

“God, that’s so … ugh,” Duff groaned, coherent as always during sex. “Just …please! And now.” 

Unsure what was expected, Axl looked over to Izzy. Izzy smiled at him. 

“Whatdya say, huh? Is he ready? Or does he need some more…”

“No more anything!” Duff interrupted them. “I’m not only prepped, I’m overcooked! Dick. Inside. Now.”

“I… I guess so,” Axl replied nervously. “Uhm… You wanna check?” He pulled out and sat back. 

“No, I trust you,” Izzy replied. “How about you lose some clothes, too? You have us a bit at a disadvantage here.” 

In fact, he didn’t want Axl to come in his pants, and from the state he was in, that was a definite possibility. 

“You mean, you want me to…,” 

“I’ve seen you all naked countless times,” Izzy replied. “Come on, just do it.”

Axl nodded and undressed, while Duff was really getting upset now. He sat up again, trying to take matters in his own hands. 

“I swear, Izzy,” he groused, when Izzy took him by the shoulders and laid him back down yet again, “if you don’t fuck me right now … I’ll… I’ll…”

“Can’t you follow directions for just one single second?” Izzy snapped. Then he pushed his fingers back in, just to shut him up. It was really time. Duff was only seconds away from coming all over himself. “Soon. Just hold out one more minute, and I’ll give you all you need.”

He looked over to Axl, who was now naked too; naked and aroused

“You did a good job,” he told him, making him blush. “So, what do you say? Wanna do the deed?”

“I … what?” 

“You got him ready, you can reap the benefits. Care to give him the honours?” 

Did he have to spell it out? Belatedly he realized that this hadn’t been part of their plan, and that he should have run this idea by Duff first. 

“I …,” Axl stuttered. “Me?”

“Oh, fuck you both,” Duff all but yelled, “I don’t care who’s doing it, just somebody, please. Now.”

“I .. no,” Axl said tonelessly. “I can’t do that to him.”

Izzy really wondered how Axl managed to keep up this amount of denial. Here Duff was begging to be fucked and he still didn’t believe he might enjoy it. 

“Your loss,” he said and positioned himself between Duff’s legs. 

He saw how Axl took Duff’s hand, not out of any romantic notions, but to give him courage while he was being torn apart, and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He was fed up with all this slow, gentle, soft anyway. He didn’t do it like that, Duff didn’t do it like that, and yet they had put up a soap opera for Axl’s benefit. Apparently to no avail, for whenever Axl had gotten something in his mind, there was no swaying him, no matter how much proof and evidence was piled up in front of him. 

Izzy drove in with full vigour. Duff yelped in protest at the sudden force, but then his expression turned to one of utter bliss. This was what Duff liked and this was what he would get and Axl be damned. 

For the first few strokes, Izzy managed to hold himself upright in the perfect gentleman position, his body an inch over Duff’s. When his right arm complained, he tried to take more weight on the left one, but it was not really working. He let himself shift to the side, pulling Duff halfway with him. Duff pressed his forehead against his shoulder, panting heavily. Izzy rocked into him while Duff met every stroke with a twist of his hips. 

Axl had let go of his hand, and over Duff’s back Izzy saw him hesitatingly work his own cock. Good. If he was jerking off, he was hopefully, finally, finally getting the gist of this blasted lesson. 

Izzy rolled Duff back onto this back. 

“You good, baby?” he asked needlessly. 

Duff’s head fell back, exposing his long neck and Izzy went down for his throat, putting everything about being slow and gentle and … boring firmly aside. His arm, after the short reprieve, was holding up more or less, although he had to lie down on Duff’s body for a second now and then. Duff bucked against him a few times. Then, all of a sudden, Izzy felt his muscles tense around and under him. For a moment he thought he was too close once again, and tried to push himself up, but he didn’t make it far. Duff wrapped both long octopus arms around him and pulled him down onto his chest, and Izzy came like a freight transport on a downhill road. 

When he came to his senses again, it was quiet. Very quiet. He rolled off Duff’s prone body, but Duff was not eager to let him go. He held on with one arm, the other one wrapped around Axl who lay next to him, face buried in Duff’s blond hair. Doing him the favour, Izzy stayed close. Duff always wanted to cuddle afterwards, and sometimes he just gave in and let him have his moment of tenderness. He put his head onto Duff’s shoulder, listening to his breathing evening out. 

+++

Careful not to wake anybody, Axl worked himself out from under Duff’s arm. He picked up his clothes and dressed as noiselessly as possible. There was a softness on Izzy’s face he had never seen before. Duff on the other hand, drooling a little bit and his arm wrapped possessively around Izzy, looked simply knocked out. 

Quietly he slipped out and walked down the corridor. There was so much he didn’t understand and this night hadn’t clarified much of it. Not tired enough to retreat to his own room, he aimlessly strolled down the dark corridors. When he reached the sitting room, he noticed light. Soft music was playing and when he entered, he spotted Slash who quickly put the guitar aside. 

“I thought I had the room to myself tonight,” he said sheepishly. Axl would have said he blushed, but it was not easy to say with Slash’s dark complexion. 

“Want me to leave?” Axl asked. 

“Nah. Come in. Drink?” He held up a bottle of beer and Axl nodded.

He wasn’t big on drinking, at least not to a point where he was no longer in control of himself. But he did like the warmth and the buzz that came from a couple of beers. 

“You can keep playing, you know,” he said, but Slash had already put the guitar away. There was still music in the background, the song Slash he had been playing along to and Axl found, he liked it. 

He took the bottle and for once he didn’t sit down in his usual armchair, but next to Slash. He looked out of the window, watching the stars flicker in the eternal darkness.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked after taking a few sips. 

“Sure.” Slash looked a bit uncomfortable at the question, but he did need to know. 

“I wanted to see how it is,” Axl said instead of asking right away. He had to find the words first, explain what he meant, and while that was usually not a big problem for him, this was different. 

“Uhm, yeah, Duff told me,” Slash replied. “And was it … like you expected?”

“No. Not really.” He was still trying to wrap his head around what exactly he had witnessed. “I think it was … kind of a show. I don’t think they always do it like that. It wouldn’t make sense.”

“What has you saying that?” 

Slash had turned towards him. He pulled up one leg on the couch and had started to push his hair back. Axl was glad about it. He knew Slash so long now and he was the only one he could ask about this. But Slash didn’t talk about uncomfortable things and if this made him uncomfortable, he would just hmmm around and it would be all useless. 

“Izzy had to do a whole lot of work. I mean, until he could finally … get in. And then he got just a few minutes of … uhm … real action out of it. And then it was finished. It took him ages of working Duff over and getting him ready and then… all done. Why would he do that? Seems like so much effort for so little satisfaction.”

“Was Duff happy?”

“Oh, yes,” Axl said. “Yes, I’m … of that I’m sure now. He really likes it. I thought he was making it up, because he doesn’t want anybody to be cross with Izzy, but he does. But what does Izzy get out of it? Why does he even go through all that trouble?” 

Slash chuckled a little and pushed his hair further back. “Honestly? I don’t know if they do it always like … that, but the gist out of what you just told me would be: Izzy is a damned good lover.”

Axl looked dubious. 

“Does that make Duff a bad lover? ‘cause he didn’t do shit himself.” 

“You would have to tell me more about it. Not that I want to know the details, I really don’t, and I will probably pour bleach into my brain afterwards. But I get a feeling, this topic will follow us for the next year or so, and I can’t leave it all to Duff and Izzy. They’ll fuck it up with that weird fuckbuddy relationship they have been going. So … from the beginning, Axl.”

Axl did his best to relate the events of the evening. Slash wrinkled his nose at some points, laughed at others, once he buried his face in his hands, but at the end he sat up straight and did his best to look earnest. 

“OK. Got it. They were idiots. Doesn’t matter. I think they got some things right. Yes, you got a show. But, and that’s the important part, I’m sure Izzy did get quite a bit more out of this than you thought. Turning somebody on like that, that’s quite the ego trip. It feels good to be wanted. And playing Duff like that, that means he knew what he was doing. And that means: he paid enough attention during their previous … uhm… love making to know how and that means … he really likes him. Or else he wouldn’t bother.”

“So Duff is not a bad lover?”

Now Slash was laughing. “If it’s always like that, then, yes Duff would be a shitty lover. But I doubt it’s like that. You can also do it the other way round, I mean, Duff doing all the work and Izzy reaping the benefits. Usually it’s a bit of both. I suppose you witnessed … uhm … an extreme.”

“So, it was not representative?” 

“There is no representative,” Slash said. “Sex is always personal. It’s about what people like, what gets them off. If Izzy gets off on prepping Duff into frustration, and Duff puts up with it, then it’s fine. But you said yourself, it was kind of a performance. I think they wanted to show you something specific. That it can be good for the one on the bottom. And how to make sure that it will be good. ‘cause when you’re the one on top that comes with a bit of responsibility.”

Axl nodded solemnly. Duff had said something similar. 

“That was what you were afraid of, right? That Izzy was abusing Duff.”

“It’s not abuse,” Axl said. “Not when it’s done to a slave.”

Slash took a deep sip from his own bottle. Then he reached out and did something he almost never did: he touched Axl’s cheek. Axl let him. 

“You still think like that?”

“It’s the law,” Axl repeated stubbornly. 

“Nobody here gives a shit about laws.” Slash ran his finger up and down Axl’s cheek as if he tried to comfort him. Comfort him about what? “Come here.”

“What…,” Axl started to protest, but Slash just held his arm out and repeated the offer. 

“Come here, Axl.”

Slowly Axl scooted nearer, until they touched. Slash let his arm sink down around his shoulder, but he did not grip him tightly or did anything else that might have been threatening. 

Axl picked at his bottle.

“Do people really need sex?”

“Uhm.” Slash looked a bit perplexed. “What do you mean by ‘need’? I mean, sure, you won’t die if you can’t get any, but it can be a sorry kind of existence, if you … if you really like it.”

“It’s what you do when you run off on your own in ports, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes,” Slash conceded. “Axl, what is this about? It’s fine to not have sex, if that’s what you’re asking. I get why you might be put off after all you’ve been through. There’s no reason to change that if you’d rather stay away from it.”

“It’s what Izzy said,” Axl tried to explain, searching for words once again. “He said stuff like ‘I’ll give you what you need’, you know. And Duff acted as if he was … dunno … really needing it. But on Tarui, sometimes the guards would just pick one of us and push him over the next table and they said the same. ‘Look how much he needs it’ and shit like that. Like we wanted it. Nobody ever wanted it. And I’m pretty sure nobody needed it either.”

“Axl,” Slash said and his voice sounded a bit rough. “That’s … really, you can’t compare that. Not at all. One’s got nothing to do with the other. It’s like … like…”

“The difference between puke and food.”

“Exactly!” Slash exclaimed. Bad metaphors were apparently a thing onboard the XXG. “What you saw that’s … that’s derision and humiliation. It’s like somebody punching you in the face and telling you how much prettier you look with a broken nose. With real sex that’s … it’s a game. Most of sex is a head game. And saying you need it or telling somebody he needs it, that’s part of the game. It’s a turn on. Thinking that somebody really, really needs your dick inside them.”

Axl nodded again, mulling things over. He tried to picture himself in Duff’s position, but he couldn’t. Not really. To be so trusting, to just hand himself over the way he had done. He could only imagine one single person who he might allow to even come that close and that was Izzy. He supposed he would let Izzy do something like that, if he absolutely had to, but begging for it the way Duff had done? No. It would be like treatment. Something he submitted to because there was no real alternative. 

He thought about it happening the other way round, Izzy on his back and Axl making him look at him the way Duff had looked. Heated, wound up, impatient. Waiting for him to give him release. He wouldn’t make him beg. Never. He would give him all he wanted … needed … in a heartbeat. That, Axl thought, that he could imagine. 

“Play some?” he asked and pointed towards the guitar. “Please?”

Slash looked indecisive. “If you sing,” he finally said. 

Axl hesitated. Singing with Duff during cooking sessions was one thing. It was fun, goofy and when it went awry, they just laughed hysterically and tried again. He had never laughed the way he could laugh with Duff, until his sides hurt and his knees buckled. But this was different. Slash was not fooling around, he played beautifully, and Axl didn’t want to ruin that with his scratchy singing.

“Ok,” he said. 

Slash picked up the guitar. He strummed a bit aimlessly before settling on a song they both knew. Barely audible at first, then slightly louder, but still not loud enough to be really heard over the guitar, Axl sang along. 

-End of Part I -


	15. Every Fucking Time

****

Part II 

It took them another week to reach Loomah, more than Izzy had planned, but he was the first to admit that he just didn’t give a fuck. The latest string of drama days had cost them the headway they had made so far. It was not worth shooing his men around to make up for that, not when they were all on their last leg. And so the XXG, normally more of an express type of transport, was poking through space like an overloaded freight ship. 

They never talked about what Izzy called ‘the Axl debacle’ in his head. The only reminder was Duff’s sudden penchant for hard, fast sex, just when Izzy had realized that he liked going slow on him, and that there was something immensely satisfying about reducing him to a begging puddle of need. 

He didn’t mention it, just assumed that Duff needed to work something off, and that they would eventually find common ground again. And until then, if he didn’t feign being too busy for sex, he pushed Duff head first into the pillows and gave it to him like he didn’t care one iota about anything but getting off. 

It also helped with putting their relationship firmly back where it belonged: into the realm of simple sexual gratification. They had gotten a bit too close over the last weeks and that wasn’t helpful for either of them. Izzy couldn’t blame it on Duff, he had been muddying the waters himself. It was just too easy to let go around him. But that wouldn’t happen again. Time to return to what they were: master and slave. 

The only thing he couldn’t really get out of his head was that on Loomah, part two of ‘the Axl debacle’ would wait for him. No, he wasn’t looking forward to watching Axl put what he had or hadn’t learned into practice, but he would survive it. After that there would be no more sexual education. Never again. Axl would just have to deal with living the life of a monk. 

They day before they reached their layover, Izzy asked them all after dinner into the sitting room. Whenever he allowed his crew off board, he still could not just let them run. There were always specific laws and regulations he had to instruct them about, and he needed to make sure they were all on the same page. Especially Slash, who was not controlled by a tracker and had the tendency to just go AWOL during shore leave. 

“Ok,” he said, when they were all divided over couches and armchairs. Loomah was a perfect sphere outside the window, a beautiful white-blue orb contrasting against the darkness of space, and as usual he wished it was already in the rear window. “Class A planet, means: natural atmosphere.”

Duff looked excited, he noticed, while Axl tried to appear bored. Neither of them had ever tasted natural air. They would be in for a surprise. 

“It’s also cold as fuck, so keep that in mind.”

“What does cold as fuck mean?” Duff asked. 

“At this time of the year? Below freezing point where we are going,” Izzy explained. “Not by much, but when you’ve never experienced frost… I mean both of you are coming out of a desert environment, so … dress accordingly. I’m not your Mom. You decide you want to go out in swimming shorts, I won’t keep you from doing it.”

“Natural ice?” Axl asked and now he did look excited. “Will there be snow?”

“Snow exists?” Duff exclaimed. He ducked when everybody stared at him. “I mean … is there really white stuff falling from the sky? I thought that was a movie cliché.”

“Can happen. Doesn’t have to,” Izzy replied, trying to not shake his head. Caste zero citizen, he reminded himself. Pitraria. In Duff’s opinion, education was probably a movie-cliché, too. “Didn’t check the weather report.” 

Slash was sipping his beer, an amused look on his face. Just like Izzy, he had seen all kinds of planets and for him weather was something you adapted, not looked forward to. 

“Regulations,” Izzy continued to the more important part. “Slash’s warrant is theoretically valid, but Loomah does not extradite off planet and probably won’t enforce it either. They won’t care if you’re apprehended by hunters, but they can’t take you off planet without permit, and as bureaucracy is rampant as everywhere, it will take an eternity. Still, if I wanted to get you back it would even be worse, fuck up my schedule, cost a shit ton in bribery and give me a major headache. So, don’t, OK?”

“Will do my best, chief,” Slash replied. 

“Slave regulations. Pros: nobody is allowed to just beat you, kick you, whatever, just because they feel like it. Unless you’re breaking any laws, people have to let you be. Not because they like you so much, but because of property laws. They damage you, they have to recompensate me. You’re also allowed pretty much everywhere, as long as you are accompanying your master, also bars, clubs, etc. All other rules are similar to how they are everywhere, meaning: I have to attach you to a free person or, if I let you run around on your own, I’ll have to authorize you with destination, purpose, and duration.”

Axl groaned. As if Izzy would ever let him run around on any planet without supervision. On the rare occasions that he even took him offboard, Axl had always been attached to either him or Slash. Tightly. He had invested too much work into Axl to have him executed on some God-forsaken planet. 

“On the sunnier side, radius can be pretty lax. It’s more like ‘keep them within earshot’ not ‘attach them to your hip’ and I’ll give you as much as I can, OK? Don’t make me regret it. So, given that I have to take Axl to some … appointment, can you take Duff, Slash?”

“Hm,” Slash made. “I had thought … you know.” He turned the bottle in his hands, not looking at anybody.

Izzy knew. Slash was planning his own … appointments. 

“Yeah, right.” Izzy rubbed a hand over his forehead. Slash hadn’t been off the ship in ages and he wasn’t exactly in a position to deny him sexual gratification. 

“Does that mean I have to stay on board?” Duff piped up, looking disappointed. 

“No, it means you get to run all the errands,” Izzy decided. He preferred doing that himself, check out what was really available, compare prices, etc. but for once he could just send Duff off with a list. “At least you’ll see some of the port area that way. And there’s still time afterwards for a bit of fun.” Not that he thought he would still be in the mood for anything ‘afterwards’. “Come by later, I’m gonna give you the rundown of what we need.” 

Duff nodded and his smile was back. He was probably the only person on board who would consider doing the shopping fun. 

“The rest is just as always, don’t get into trouble, don’t get arrested, any fines you’ll rack up will be worked off in a really unpleasant way, be back and do your jobs in between carousing, bla bla. To do list is in the system. I don’t care when you work off your tasks, just do it. Mandatory vaccinations will be done tomorrow morning. Any questions? No? Good night.”

He gave them a final nod and returned to his cabin to get started on the maintenance lists, the shopping lists, and about half a dozen other lists. Time in port had to be used well. What they did not do now they wouldn’t be doing for the next two months. 

They were running out of food faster than he liked, once, because he hadn’t factored Duff in when he had stocked up on Pritaria, and second, because Duff had really gotten into cooking and more and more often just ignored the food lists. It was an expensive habit, but one he wasn’t exactly prepared to stifle. It was just too nice to get a decent meal after a day of work, instead something hastily cobbled together out of ingredients that didn’t really fit together. Duff did stick to the rules, more or less, but when he thought he had to add or exchange something, he did it. Still, with a bit of budgeting it should be sustainable. 

He had just finished the tally of spares and medical supplies when there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in, Duff,” he said without looking up from the screen. 

The door slid open and there were steps behind him. 

“Almost done. I guess it’s time to give you an idea about this shit anyway. Might be helpful if I can delegate the shopping to you now and then. Sit down, I’ll show you.”

He ran Duff through the inventories and then loaded the shopping lists to his bracelet. 

“That’s … really a lot of money,” Duff said weakly when he looked at the final sums at the end of each list. 

“It’s an estimate,” Izzy explained. “You can’t go over or we’ll go bankrupt. If you have to make concessions, it has to be with the food, OK?”

“You mean you want me to…,”

“Yeah, Duff. I told you, you’d have to do the shopping. That includes making decisions.” 

Duff looked as if he was about to faint. 

“I’ve never handled so much money.”

“Then get used to it.” Izzy shut down the system. “It’s not that difficult. You don’t have to push a shopping cart through a store and collect stuff. These are space suppliers. You hand over the list and they’ll come back with a list of their own. You look for a quiet corner, prop your ass down, and compare the lists. Make note of any discrepancies and ask for clarification. Even if they just exchanged the brand, they should let you know why. If you think their explanation is reasonable and it doesn’t cost us an arm and a leg, you authorize it. Keep an eye on the tally. As I said, you can’t go over it.”

“I … authorize?” Duff asked and now he was getting into full panic mode. “I can’t … I mean, I’m a slave… I’m…”

“Yeah, but this is Loomah. They’ll check your credentials, but if I have approved you to act in my name, then they’ll accept that. If you’re unsure about anything, just reject it and make a note, I can always check back later. Once you’re happy, seal the deal. Anyway, give them the dock number of our position, which we’ll get tomorrow, and they’ll deliver. It’s not as big as it sounds.”

Duff still looked dubious and for a moment Izzy wondered if this was too much. He was not only going to handle big transactions for the first time, he would also do it on a foreign planet with foreign customs when he had never left his home planet before. On the other hand, if he wanted to get some real use out of Duff, he had to let him try. It would take a while until he was able to work independently in the engine room, having him involved in administrative issues would make him pull his weight a lot faster. He couldn’t send Axl shopping after all, he would kill a shop assistant in the process, but Duff… Why not? 

“Here, put this shop at the end, after you’ve taken care of everything else,” he pointed on the last part of the list. “I’ll meet you there. You might have to wait a bit, can’t say yet, but I’ll assign you enough time. They’re more or less OK there, used to pretty much every type of customer. They won’t mind you hanging around for a bit.”

The store was also the most interesting one. Their main business was engine spares, but as literally everybody showed up there, they also had a huge warehouse for general supplies attached. It should be enough to keep Duff entertained for a while. 

“Here,” he tossed an external payment chip at him. “That’s your allowance.”

“My what?” Duff looked at the chip. 

It wasn’t much, but it would allow him to buy a couple of things he needed or maybe just liked to have. Hopefully a fitting pair of pants was part of his wish list. 

“You can blow it,” Izzy explained. “Anyway you want. Don’t look like that, Axl normally gets one, too.” Not this time, he added silently. “And Slash has his wages, so … yeah. Have some fun.”

“I can spend this on whatever I want?” Duff asked. 

Izzy nodded. “As long as it’s legal,” he added as precaution. 

“Can I … can I transfer it home? To my family?”

“Your family?” 

Izzy turned around. Duff was looking at him expectantly, holding the chip in his hand as if it was pure gold. It was only a handful of credits, not even enough for a decent night out. 

“Yes, my … my siblings. I mean, I’ve got everything I need here and they … might not.”

“Your file doesn’t mention siblings,” Izzy replied. 

“That’s because Pitraria tracks the lines down from the father and I’m the only one from mine. But I have seven half-siblings.”

“Seven,” Izzy said. 

In his own circles giving birth to more than one child was considered a biological miracle. It would be easily changeable of course, all his folks had to do was allow marriages outside their communities, but as it was, the genetic pool had gotten so small that each and every healthy baby was celebrated like the messiah had been born. 

“That’s quite a lot. Didn’t they have birth control where you come from?”

“They do, but you’d have to use it. I was kind of an important factor in keeping them all fed. I am the oldest. And now that I am gone … I suppose Claudia might have stepped in. And maybe Jon. But I’d … like to help out, if I still can.”

“As I said, spend it however you want,” Izzy replied. “It’s up to you.”

“It’s just …,” Duff looked hesitant.

“I would have to transfer it for you.”

Duff nodded. 

“No problem. We can do that first thing tomorrow. You have the data?”

“Yes!” Duff beamed. “Thanks, that’s …”

“Yeah, yeah,” Izzy waved him off. Sometimes Duff’s gratitude for mere trifles made him feel like the worst person in the entire universe. “You want to add a message? Let them know how you are doing?”

“I can?” Duff’s face lit up like a bonfire. 

“Of course, you can!” Izzy exclaimed. 

It was not something that had occurred to him so far, as he wouldn’t shed a tear if he never saw his own clan ever again. But if one was attached to one’s family, one might want to let them know that one had not gotten irrevocably lost in the sex industry. Even Izzy did get that. 

“You could have just asked,” he added, a little offended. “Don’t give any information about our route, OK? I’d rather not have that out, but, yeah, sure. And you can give my ID as return address. You’ll only be able to pick up your mail when we’re in port, but … yeah. Better than nothing, I suppose.”

The only thing that saved him from feeling like a monster was, that there really hadn’t been any possibility for Duff to contact anybody. The ship system wasn’t set up for interstellar communication, so once they left the orbit, they were cut off from the world. Izzy liked it that way, but whenever they were onshore, getting in touch with other planets was easily done. 

“Thanks!” Duff repeated and suddenly Izzy found himself wrapped in one of Duff’s sudden hugs. “Really, Izzy, you’re the best.”

“Yeah, right.” Izzy cleared his throat. Now he really felt like shit. “Guess I’ll go to bed, if you don’t mind.”

“You want me to…”

“No,” Izzy interrupted. Definitely not. He would have to deal with Axl’s defloration, he would not deal with Duff in full gratitude mode on top of that. “Write your freaking letter and send me the file. I won’t read it, promised. You can complain all you want. Won’t read the reply either.”

Duff smiled, that dazzling, innocent, beautiful smile of his and Izzy shut the door into his face. 

+++

Duff returned to his quarters in high spirits, but also a bit uneasy at yet another unknown task. He had never written a letter in all of his life and now his first attempt was such an important one. He didn’t want his family to worry about him, not when he was doing this good. But how should he explain it when his position was worrisome in itself? 

‘Hi Mom, hi folks,’ he started, not knowing how to move on. ‘As you might have found out, I got sold. I’m living on a trader and I’m learning spaceship mechanics.’ 

That was only half of the truth, but they probably wouldn’t understand the other half. He didn’t understand it himself, most of the times. Sometimes he felt almost like Izzy’s lover, which he couldn’t be, of course, sometimes it was just plain, grandiose sex, and then, for days, he was hardly allowed to lend a hand, and was chucked out of the cabin as soon as he was finished. He tried not to be dissatisfied if that happened. Izzy was a busy man and Duff’s job was to provide some stress relief. If he got more now and then he should be grateful, not develop expectations. 

‘I won’t be back anytime soon, I guess, but you can stop worrying now. I’m good. I get more food than I can eat and it’s even lots of real food and I have a room all to myself.’ 

It still was a big thing to him, both, the food and the cabin. He had never had space for himself and while he sometimes missed the sound of somebody breathing in the same room, he enjoyed the pure extravagance of such an arrangement. 

‘My master said you can use his ID to write back to me. Put my name into the content line, then he knows it’s for me. If you hurry, I might get your message before we leave planet again. If not, I’ll get it at the next port. I also send you my ...’

‘Allowance’ would have been the correct word. Izzy had used it, too, but it sucked. It sounded too much like pocket money to his ears and even if it was just that, he wanted to make it appear better. 

‘I also send you my earnings,’ he finally wrote. ‘Hope it helps a bit. I don’t need it. I get everything I need.’ 

He wished he could write that he would send more as soon as possible, but he did not want to assume. He was getting so much already.

‘Write back, please,’ he finished. His family was about as savvy as he was about letter writing, but he hoped they’d make an effort. ‘I miss you all. Duff.’

There, it was done. He read it through again and thought it sounded pretty good for a first try. Maybe he should also write some about Slash and Axl and also Izzy and how they made for the greatest crew in the galaxy, but he did not really know how. 

Maybe he could ask Axl. Surely Izzy would allow him another message, and next time he would be prepared and start earlier. Axl was good with words. He always read books on his screen, and he made up nasty little rhymes and verses which he then turned into to melodies. Duff wondered if he should start reading more himself. He hadn’t even been aware of how much he didn’t know, until Axl had really started talking to him. He brought up topics Duff hadn’t ever wasted a thought on and pushed and pushed until Duff busied himself enough with it to form an opinion. Only if it was different from Axl’s opinion, then Axl would discuss the topic to death, so most of the time he kept them to himself. 

Axl had also the benefit of not needing much sleep, while he himself usually dropped dead at the end of the day, which made reading difficult. Sometimes life was a tiny bit unfair. 

That night though he would have had time to read. Sleep was somehow avoiding him, and when he woke the next morning, he felt as if he hadn’t slept a wink. It was still early, but instead of trying to get in another hour of shuteye, he rose and got dressed. To his surprise, he met Axl in the kitchen. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Axl asked and handed him a mug of tea. Duff would have preferred coffee, but he could always have some later. 

“I’ve never been to another planet in all my life,” Duff said. “How is it?”

Axl shrugged. “Depends. Haven’t been to this one yet. Izzy doesn’t take me that often. There are quite a few planets where being me is not legal.” 

Axl was still in a rather subdued mood after the cascade of events that had shaken them all more than they liked to admit. Duff assumed it was the reason why he did not head into a tirade about Izzy being a dictator and keeping him prisoner when everybody else always got to have fun. 

It was a veritable problem. Just like Pitraria, a lot of planets had a ban on assemblees and the number was increasing. While Slash’s faked identity was good enough to keep him more or less safe, cracking the coding of a slave bracelet was pretty much impossible, as the bracelet was connected to the chip, and the chip couldn’t be exchanged. One scan … and slaves were scanned all the time, everywhere, by everybody … and Axl would be outed.

“Come on,” Axl said. “Let’s go to the sitting room. Landing approach is nice to look at if you have never seen it before.”

In the end Duff got to experience the landing approach from the bridge, which offered a better view than the sitting room. Izzy didn’t call him up often, but this time he got a first-row seat. To Duff’s surprise, Izzy wasn’t doing the manoeuvre himself, but left it to Axl. He managed the power control and chatted with the controllers during docking, but that was all. 

Axl looked a bit heated when they were safely docked, but for the first time in quite a while he also looked truly happy; proud of himself when there hadn’t been a lot of cause for pride lately. 

“That was fucking perfect,” he said and tucked a few errant strands of hair back under the bandana. 

“It was good,” Izzy confirmed. “Less bumpy than last time.”

For once Axl took the sting out and basked only in the compliment. 

“We’ve got to take custom onboard. So, Duff, keep in mind, Slash doesn’t exist, he’s going by Saul Hudson.” Izzy stood up. 

“Will they ask me questions?” Duff asked nervously. 

“No, not likely. They’ll scan your bracelet. But if they do, your answer is ‘don’t know because I’m too stupid to tie my own laces,’ OK?”

Duff nodded. He had experiences that way.

Izzy took them down to the hatch where Slash was already waiting. 

“Remember, children, pretend you’re two well behaved slaves and not … well, what you are in reality.”

Duff thought that was a bit unfair. He considered himself at least a quite well-behaved slave. It wasn’t his fault that Izzy ran such an unorthodox regime. 

When the hatch opened with its usual screech, he and Axl stood with their backs to the wall, eyes down, hands at their sides. Two officers in uniform entered. They were burly, armed and did their best to appear intimidating.

Izzy, unimpressed by their posturing, exchanged greetings and let them scan his documentation about crew and cargo. In the meanwhile, Slash hovered in the background, and left an even better impression at being part of the furniture than Duff and Axl. 

“Reason of stay?” one of them asked while checking through the paperwork. The second man just stood behind him. 

“Stopover,” Izzy replied, face stony as if he didn’t think it was anybody’s business. “Stocking up.”

“Planning on discharging any cargo?”

“No.”

“Planning on going planetside?”

“Yes.”

“Who of you?”

“All four.”

“Mandatory vaccinations?”

“Yes, done.”

They had all gotten their shots earlier in the morning, followed by the label scanned into their bracelets. Izzy had muttered something about how gracious it was that they didn’t have to stick it to their foreheads. 

“Good.” The officer looked up. “Identification.”

He had gotten Izzy’s already and so he went over to Slash and scanned him. Then he moved on to Duff, picking up his wrist before Duff got a chance to hold out his hand. After the beep he lingered a bit and Duff started to feel uneasy. He knew what was coming next before it was happening. 

The officer grabbed his chin and made him look up. Being taller usually made free people extra angry when he dared looking at them, and so he had learned really fast to keep the direction of his gaze in check. Only within the few weeks onboard the XXG, he had unlearned quite a bit of slave behaviour, and for a second, his lids flickered upwards. It was enough to make the hand around his jaw tighten.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” the man said and patted his cheek. “A bit spoiled, huh? Is he obedient?”

“Perfect,” Izzy said, his voice giving nothing away. 

The officer made an approving noise before he let go. Duff let his head hang down again while it was Axl’s turn to be humiliated. 

“Hand up,” he said. “Hold it so that I don’t have to touch you.” His face was slightly disgusted. 

Axl complied without lifting his head. His hair, held back by the bandana, was not falling forward enough to cover his face, and Duff saw the carefully neutral expression from under his own shaggy hair. Axl’s face was never neutral. Whatever emotions he felt, they always ran amok all over his features. So how did he manage to suddenly look so … vacant. 

Duff felt a completely new form of anger bubble in his stomach. As a caste zero citizen he had been used to all forms of degradation. He had thought he knew how it felt to be nothing. Then he had been turned into a slave and had experienced a completely new stage of debasement. This was yet another step down. Slaves were often treated worse than dogs, but Axl wasn’t even granted that much decency. He was too repulsive to be touched, and from his reaction, he hadn’t expected anything else. Duff wondered if there was really a bottom line of how far down one could sink. Probably not. 

“Good,” the officer said. “I wish you a good stay.”

Without granting him a look, Izzy stepped past the man and handed Duff a disinfectant wipe. 

“Clean your face,” he said, loud and clear. “I don’t want you to catch any germs.”

Then he turned towards the officer and gave him an icy stare. 

“And good day to you, too, sir.”

For a moment trouble was almost palpable. Duff stared first at Izzy, then at the officer whose face was obtaining an unhealthy colour, before he remembered, that he was an obedient slave and started to wipe his molested cheek. In the end the officers decided that one pig-headed spacer was not worth their time and left. Izzy closed the hutch with a bang. Slash pretended to retch and Axl was back to looking like himself. 

“Is it always like that?” Duff asked, not even sure what he meant. Nothing bad had happened after all, he shouldn’t feel so … violated. 

“Like what?” Izzy asked. “Assholes marching into your ship, demanding disclosure about the last shit you’ve taken, how much, consistency and nuance of smell? Yep, it’s always like that. Unless you want to discharge cargo, then it gets worse.”

He marched off, kicking against the doorframe as he left. 

“Whoever isn’t ready in half an hour stays behind,” he yelled before he stormed up the first ladder. 

“And this,” Slash said, “is also always like that. Izzy doesn’t like strangers sticking their noses into his affairs. Gets him vexed each and every time. You’d think he gets used to it, but, no. Never has, never will. OK guys, see you in thirty minutes. And don’t think he doesn’t mean it, he does.”

“It can be worse,” Axl said when they were alone. “This was easy. Look here.” He pointed at a row of slave-docks at the foot of the back wall. “Sometimes it’s the law that you have to be shackled for inspection. Usually feet to the docks, hands cuffed together in front of you so that they can still scan you. But any other combination of backwards, forwards, hands, feet, whatever is possible. And then there’s those where you’ll get a baton into your belly if you don’t manage to keep your eyes down.” He smiled wryly. “Once Izzy got so angry that we were banned from the whole planet once and for all. Moranta it was. Which is a bit of a hassle, ‘cause it’s on the route to almost everywhere.”

Duff chewed his lip. Suddenly he wasn’t so excited to go planetside anymore. Since his addition to the crew he had existed in a bubble, and it was easy to forget that things were handled differently everywhere else. 

Somebody in an official position had … what? Grabbed his wrist? Fondled his face? It was a joke, really. Fuck, when Izzy had taken him to his cabin that first day, he had stripped naked and offered up his whole body without a second thought. Without being asked to. It had just been the natural course of events. 

He had forgotten what he was, Duff realized. He had started to think and, worse, feel like a free person again. He wasn’t and this had been a stark reminder of that slightly unimportant fact. 

“Slash’s right, you know,” Axl said. “Get dressed, or he’ll leave without you.”

“I am dressed,” Duff said confused. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” 

He looked down at himself. He wore what he always wore because everything he owned was pretty much the same type of outfit. 

“Well, for one you’ll freeze your ass off. Do you have an idea what sub zero temp means?”

Duff shook his head. Pitraria was hot at the best times and even hotter at the worst. He had once applied for a job in a factory that produced frozen goods, but hadn’t gotten it. 

“Yeah, then I’d suggest you just put on everything you have. Come on, get a move on. First time in ages I get off the ship, I’m not going to waste the chance.”


	16. Loomah

Twenty minutes later Duff was back and waiting, all doubts about facing the real world gone. There was no sense in moping about the hand fate had dealt him, and looking at Axl was proof that it could always be worse. 

Two minutes into his wait he wished Izzy would hurry up because he was getting hot. True to Axl’s recommendation, he had donned pretty much all the clothes he had bought when Izzy had told him to think ‘warm’ in addition to ‘practical and durable’. They were warm, he realized. Very warm. And while he had worn protective gloves and hats often enough, having this soft, woolly stuff cover his hands and ears felt weird. 

When Izzy came finally down, he wondered if maybe he had overdone it. Yes, Izzy did wear warmer clothes, but just the same cap he had worn on Pitraria and definitely no gloves. Slash probably didn’t need a hat anyway, he had hair enough, and Axl … OK, at least Axl was dressed similar to himself, with a woollen hat on top of the bandana. Or would have been, if he hadn’t carried his coat over his shoulder. 

“We still have to go through transit,” Izzy said with an amused look. “And then the shuttle service. You’ll be drenched in sweat before we even get outside.”

A little sheepishly Duff peeled himself out of his coat and bundled it over his arm. The coat had pockets, he realized, and so he stuffed hat and gloves into them. 

“Sorry,” Izzy said and pulled the scarf off his neck. “You’re not allowed to hide the collar. Come on, guys,” he added, sounding a little tired. “Let’s get this circus on the road.”

Transit took an eternity. First, they had to get out of their docking aisle, then they had to wait for a transport vehicle to take them to immigration. Then they were all checked again, this time also against the claims they had made earlier with the custom officers. 

The group before them caused a major delay, simply because one person who had originally wanted to stay onboard now decided to go planetside, too and the android responsible for the formalities was not programmed to deal with deviations from the normal protocol. It took an eternity until somebody human came to solve the issue and they were all allowed to move on. By that time Izzy looked as if he was ready to murder somebody. 

Next step they were all scanned for hidden weapons and then, finally, finally, they passed yet another gate and breathed fresh air. 

The cold hit Duff right into his face. He had never in his life felt something like that. He knew strong winds from the desert, but this wind was different, biting and cutting into his skin like a knife. Izzy lifted his face a little, took off his cap and let the wind blow his hair out of his face, clearly enjoying the cold, when Duff couldn’t put on his coat fast enough. Once more he wondered, where Izzy had been born. Slash hunched his shoulders a little and put his hands into his pockets, but all in all he seemed happy, too. 

Then Duff noticed something else and he took a deep breath. The air was painful in his lungs, but he couldn’t help, he took another breath. 

“What is this?” he asked surprised and sucked in even more air. He looked at Axl, who was taking equally confused breaths. 

“Natural atmosphere,” Izzy said. “And a really good one. Very close to the original Earth atmosphere, before they had to cover it with the dome. Oxygen content in the right percentage, no toxic residues from recyclers. This is what nature had in mind when our respiratory system was designed.”

“Wow,” Duff said. “It’s like … getting drunk.”

It was so easy to breathe. Not that breathing was normally difficult, but this felt like he was dancing on clouds, all light and fluffy. 

But Izzy wasn’t in the mood to indulge his marvelling and started walking down the street. 

“Hm, chief?” Slash called out from behind. “I’m gone then.”

Izzy just lifted his hand without looking back. He kept walking, Duff and Axl on his heels, until he stopped in front of a row of booths along the front of a wide building. 

“We can do the transaction here,” he said to Duff. “Wanna come?”

Duff hadn’t expected Izzy to take him along. He had just trusted him to transfer the money like he had said he would, but now he did it before his eyes, and even showed him the receipt on his bracelet. 

“Why didn’t you do it on the ship?” Duff asked. “I thought you had her logged into the planet network.”

“I did,” Izzy replied. “But that would have attached the ship’s ID to the transfer. Like this it’s only my ID. No need to hand out more information than you really have to.”

“OK,” Duff said, although he didn’t really get it. He had grown up in a world where it was impossible to keep anything private and he had never really questioned it. Izzy’s incessant attempts to keep his privacy seemed so futile. How much did he even mange to keep from the authorities? Not much, Duff assumed. Even if he kept the ID of his ship separate from the transaction, it still wouldn’t change anything because the ship was linked to his own ID and any administrative office could easily make the connection. 

“You OK with the shopping lists?” Izzy asked and Duff nodded. “Good, meet you then in ..ugh… whenever we’re done. Timer is set, should be enough. Oh, and here.” He handed Duff a payment chip. 

“What …,” Duff looked down on it. The amount was about half of what Izzy had given him yesterday.

“Your allowance,” Izzy said and left him standing before Duff could utter his ‘thank you’. 

+++

After they had seen Duff off, Izzy took Axl into the less reputable part of town. First there were bars, clubs, food kitchens, porn cinemas, but soon mainly whores lined the streets. They still walked on, leaving the free sex workers behind themselves, until they reached the area where the slave brothels made up the biggest part of the business. Buying sex on Loomah was cheap in general, so those who made it this far had either very little money or very specific tastes. 

Axl walked slower and slower, the more they penetrated the ugly underbelly of the port. It was freezing cold already, although dawn had only just started to descend on them, yet scantily clad girls and boys, most far younger than the one Duff had ruined his life for, stood in front of run-down buildings. Finding a client would not only satisfy their masters, but also grant them a reprieve from the harsh weather. It was a double incentive and nobody hid the fact that a slave who was not bought often enough, might eventually die from exposure. 

Slaves seemed to get cheaper and cheaper each year, and institutions like the caste system that not only Pitraria, but also a lot of other planets employed, fed the industry with a never-ending flood of petty criminals down on their luck. Even with his meagre funds, Izzy would be able to afford a dozen slaves, if he wanted to. Keeping them properly fed and clothed, that was the expensive part. 

Izzy didn’t pride himself of any higher morals. He had never minded slavery per se. You were dealt a certain hand, you played it to the best of your abilities, and if you ended on the losing side, bad luck. No pity from him. 

But he had never been a wasteful person. Resources had always been scarce within the community he had grown up in. You used what you had to full extend, you took good care of your belongings, you made sure your ship was well maintained, the team was well fed and heathy, and while it was within your rights to demand hard work, you never worked your crew into the ground. If you did that, you wouldn’t get another. 

Slaves had been there, too, of course, usually bought cheap and trained up, the way he did with Duff. A well-trained slave was a very valuable resource. The idea of using them like disposable items went past his understanding. 

They had stopped walking at all, and Izzy watched Axl, checking out the merchandise. He realized belatedly that he had never before taken Axl to these parts of the ports. There hadn’t been a reason. Usually, when there was even time for leisure, they would have a couple of drinks somewhere. Mostly they were running errands and Axl got so see a bit of countryside in the process, just like Duff did now. There were so few places where bringing Axl was, if not a good idea, then at least an acceptable risk. 

Once he had taken him to see an ocean and Axl, who had grown up on a planet with hardly a drop of water, had stared and stared and gotten completely wet because he had been too fascinated by the waves to get away from them. 

Another time they had spent over an hour just walking on grass, Axl repeating a constant “why is it so green?”. 

When Izzy had told him to take off his shoes and just feel it, he had almost balked. In the end Izzy had done it first and Axl, not wanting to be a coward, had followed along. Eventually they had been stopped by some member of the law and subjected to instant drug testing. 

This was different. For once Axl wasn’t fascinated by something new. He looked at the slaves on offer just the way he had looked at Duff during that ill-fated training event. 

“You want to call it off?” Izzy asked. “Really, you don’t have to. We can even tell the other that you did, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

“It’s not,” Axl said. “It’s just…”

“Yes?” 

“This could be Duff, right? Would have been if …”

“Yeah,” Izzy said. “Something like this.”

He sighed and wished for a drink. He should have gotten his alcohol level up before starting. 

“Come on,” he said. “There’s another possibility.”

He took Axl’s hand and pulled him down the streets, past the neon signs, the noises, the stench, until they reached yet another part of town. Izzy knew the place from previous business transactions, when he had still been heavily involved in providing the ports of the galaxy with forbidden goods. 

They stopped in front of yet another building, one that didn’t look any different from all the others around them. This establishment was a bit higher on the price scale, but therefore the whores were treated better. Izzy didn’t like the owner. He was an asshole and he had tried to cut the payment after delivery more than once. But his girls, while surely not happy, were at least not afraid for their lives. Most of the time. 

When he entered and followed the neon arrows, it woke old memories. This had been even before he had known Slash, when he had done whatever brought money, no matter how high the risk, just to be free, free of obligations, demands, expectations, whatever the old man had thought he had to do for the good of the clan. 

The door was a little more scuffed than he remembered, but the smell, a mixture of musk and sandalwood, was still the same. He rang the bell and a bouncer – was it also still the same? – opened. 

“I need to talk to Croos,” Izzy said without preamble. 

“And who are you?” the bouncer asked back, blank faced. 

“Tell him it’s Izzy.”

“Izzy who?”

“Just Izzy.” Izzy smiled sweetly. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble? Please? Now!” he barked, when he got no reaction. 

The man gave him an unhappy look, but then he told them to wait and muttered something into the intercom next to the counter. It took maybe five minutes and Croos was there. He, at least, didn’t look the same. Izzy wasn’t even sure he would have recognized him. Back in the day he had sported raven black hair down to his waist. Today everything was short cropped and blond, including to the beard around his chin and, weirdly enough, his eyebrows. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he said, a fake smile on his face. 

“Yeah,” Izzy replied, doing his best to keep his face neutral. Gods, he hated this man. Unfortunately, he likely had what they needed. “Funny how things sometimes don’t work out as planned.”

“What do you want?” Croos asked, dropping all pretence at hospitality. 

“A girl,” Izzy said. 

“A girl.”

“Yes, a girl. Don’t sell them anymore?”

“Sure, but …,” Croos looked at him. “Are you bullshitting me? You’re not coming here because of a girl.”

Izzy sighed. He looked at Axl and decided this required more details than he would be able to take. 

“Can we discuss this somewhere a bit more private? And is there somewhere I can park my slave in the meantime?” 

“Slavedocks are over there,” Croos said and pointed towards the wall. “If you leave him alone, secure him.”

“Won’t be necessary,” Izzy shot back. “He’s obedient.”

He gave Axl a warning glance, a clear reminder to be indeed obedient, and pointed over towards the docks. “Sit down there and wait. No talking, no bothering anybody, no nothing.”

Axl just nodded and sat down on the floor where indicated. 

“My office, then,” Croos pointed towards a door, casting an unhappy look into Axl’s direction. “I’m starting to get curious. Is this some specific girl? Somebody you know? I’m sure we can talk about a price.”

“No,” Izzy said and closed the door behind himself. 

Croos indicated towards a chair, but Izzy just leant against the desk. He wasn’t planning on getting cosy in here. When he didn’t sit down, Croos remained standing, too. 

“You’ve seen my boy out there?”

“Your slave?” Croos shrugged. “Pretty one. I like the red hair. Don’t care so much for the sullen expression. Scares the customers away.”

“Yeah. I got him … not so long ago. Anyway, turns out he’s a complete virgin.”

“Really?” Now Croos was getting attentive. “At his age? How did he manage?”

“Don’t ask me, but… he really is. Green as grass.”

“You wouldn’t want to sell him?” Croos asked carefully, but Izzy saw the greed in his eyes. The man never turned down a good deal. Axl was an oddity and oddities of all kinds and sorts sold well in the sex industry. “I would pay above market.”

‘Like hell you would,’ Izzy thought. “Not for sale,” he said aloud. “I want his cherry popped.”

“What?” Croos laughed. “And you can’t do it himself?”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Not that way. At least not yet. I want him to fuck a girl. And I need the right one.”

“You want him to… Why?” 

Izzy cocked his head. 

“Oh … you want to … you bastard, I wouldn’t have picked you like that. Watch him get done for the first time? Sure. What type of girl did you have in mind? Blonde, dark, another redhead? Oh, I have a new one, bought her just last week. She’s got almost the same hair colour. Now, that would look good.”

“Optics are secondary,” Izzy explained. “I need somebody who can give him some guidance. He’s a blank leaf, doesn’t even really know what to do, leave alone how. The girl has to take him in hand. Without being too obvious about it.”

“Why not being obvious about it?” Croos ran a hand over his beard in contemplation. “Could be interesting, having him follow orders from somebody smaller than him. I’m thinking a really delicate little slip of a girl here. Younger, of course. Or older and a bit matronly? Could both be good. Making sure he knows it’s not his pleasure that’s of interest. That’s the reason? You want him trained for women? Yes, I could see that. He’s not exactly a stallion, but these pretty types draw interest, too. Then you’d need an older woman. I do have one, for those guys who want their Momma to fuck them.”

“No.” Izzy was slowly getting exasperated. Did he really have to go into detail? Was it so difficult? “I need a girl who can fake a bit of interest, and isn’t … easily discouraged. It might take a while.”

“Wow,” Croos said. “That’s actually… does that really get you off?”

“What do you think?” Izzy grated out. If he had ever been worried about his reputation, he would now fear about ruining it for good. 

“You know, actually I think I do have somebody for that. Pretty, little thing, got a bit of a mothering complex.”

“How much?” Izzy asked and Croos stated a sum. “Phtt, for that much I can buy myself a girl, use her, sell her again, and make a profit.”

“Suggestion. I give you a discount if you let me tape the whole endeavour. Might be worth it.”

“No.”

“I’ll put the camera in an angle that will cut you out.”

“No.” 

“Then what, man, you are coming to me, and that’s my price. How about you can do the girl, too, if you like? Two for one.”

“Axl’s a slave, that‘s one and a half at maximum.” 

“I’m not going any lower.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“Yes, you will,” Izzy replied. 

“Why should I?” They were staring at each other now, just like back in the old day when they had been haggling over the price for Izzy’s goods. 

“Because you know that’s a rip-off and I won’t pay. It’s still early, your girls are not busy and when I’m not taking her, nobody will for the next few hours. I want a pre-hours-discount. I pay you fifty percent. And I want to talk to the girl beforehand. If she’s not the right one, the deal is off.”

In the end they agreed somewhere in the middle, just as they both had known they would, right from the beginning. Croos had the girl, Luna, delivered to one of his suites and left Izzy alone with her. He explained the gist of what he had already told her master, and she nodded nervously. 

“Listen, Luna,” he said. “This is all a bit tricky. I’m not sure how it’s gonna work out. I’m not even sure Axl can get it up. It’s not your fault if he doesn’t, by the way, I will pay your master no matter the outcome and I will also tell him how absolutely delighted I was with your performance. So, don’t worry about that. Point is: I don’t know how he will react.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t…,” She was a pretty girl, not spectacular, but good looking enough, with dyed blond hair and equally fake blue eyes. He had to lift her chin to see them and even then, she quickly lowered her lashes again. There was a bit much make-up on her face and he’d have to tell her to wipe that off. Axl was not used to women; dealing with one under a coat of paint would complicate things. Best keep it as close to natural as possible. 

She watched him warily from under demurely lowered lashes, but not really scared, just like a slave who was not understanding her job and didn’t dare ask. 

Izzy sat down on the bed and patted the mattress next to himself. She followed like a well-trained dog, eyes still down, hands folded in her lap. Who the hell got off on such behaviour, Izzy wondered. Hopefully she would be able to look Axl in the eye. 

“Axl can be difficult,” he tried to explain. “At least if he thinks he is embarrassing himself.” 

She wouldn’t get that either, for sooner or later slaves stopped caring about such things as personal pride. Axl was the huge exemption. 

“He might insult you. And blame you for his issues. No idea. Might also be that he’s totally nice.” 

One never knew with Axl, that was the big problem in explaining him. 

Now she did look scared. Great. Just what he didn’t need.

“He won’t hurt you. I’ll take care of that. He gets too upset, I’ll step in. Yeah, I know, you don’t trust me, but I will. Just … don’t be put off if he’s behaving… oh, fuck, I have no idea what he might do. Just don’t be weirded out, just keep going, OK? That’s all I’m asking. No miracles. Just …patience.”

“Ok, sir,” she said. Of course, she did, what else could she say, but if he thought, explaining things beforehand would make it better, he had been mistaken. She looked like Duff when he had presented him with the shopping lists. 

“Good.” Izzy ran a hand through his hair “I’ll get him then. Would be good, if you could get rid of your make-up and lose the contacts.” 

Bewildered at that order she looked him for the first time fully in the eye. Izzy gave her a smile he hoped was encouraging, but came probably across as creepy. He felt deep, deep compassion with what she would have to put up with. For once Slash would be right to accuse him of the c-word. 

Axl sat where he had left him, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them. Nobody cared about him, which was another reason why Izzy had picked this place. Yes, Croos was an asshole, but he was professional, and his clients’ belongings were safe with him. 

He looked up when Izzy approached him, and stood a little shakily. Izzy took him by his shoulder and led him down to the suite. 

“Axl, this is Luna, Luna, this is Axl,” he said and plopped down in an armchair that hadn’t been there before. 

“Hi,” Axl said, staring at her as if she was something out of a horror movie. 

Luna smiled. She looked younger without her face spackled to an inch of her life, and her eyes were suddenly a light hazel. Relieved Izzy noticed that now, that she was starting to work, she was able to look directly at them. She was getting into her role. 

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Her look flickered over to Izzy, but he ignored her and pulled a screen out of his bag. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” She pointed towards the bed. 

Izzy tuned them out after that. Instead he pulled up the shopping lists and checked what Duff had managed to achieve. He had made good headway, Izzy noticed. The actual lists were in the system, right next to his drafts and Duff had meticulously left notes for even the tiniest discrepancies. A few items were marked as needing approval, and he went through them one by one, accepting and rejecting as appropriate. To his surprise, Duff had even managed to save him some serious money here and there, by exchanging a few items where it wasn’t a problem and adding comments like ‘cheap a. f.’ or ‘ fucker refuses to sell for regular price, so told him we’d use this’ next to it.   
Izzy squinted into Axl’s direction and noticed, that they were getting along well enough. They were still both sitting upright, but Luna had lost most of her clothes. She was good, he noticed, letting Axl do his explorations without being pushy, while at the same time nudging him along, when he was getting insecure. Right now, Axl got his first feel of a female breast, something most men managed right after birth. 

They had time and he had enough work to do to not get bored. He started on the to do lists, next. Shopping was all nice and well, but the biggest part of work was getting the ship spruced up, blowing out the waste disposal system, exchanging recycled air and water, she needed a big oil change and he would really like to defrost the freezer system. Sadly, they didn’t have enough time for all of that. They would have to do that piece by piece while being back in space.

He looked up next when he noticed some hushed talking from the bed. 

“I’m sorry,” Luna said, fully naked by now, “really, I don’t have to…” She cast a quick look into Izzy’s direction and he noticed how she feebly tried to pull her hand out of Axl’s grasp. He was breathing heavily and there was slight panic in his eyes. 

Izzy put his screen away and headed over. He joined them on the bed, doing his best to make it appear all normal. 

“OK, Axl?” He asked and gently pried Luna’s wrist out of his hand. Axl’s fly was open and Izzy assumed that was what had triggered him: touch where he couldn’t stand being touched. Now, that would turn out interesting. “Just do it yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Luna mouthed, but Izzy just imperceptibly shook his head. 

Axl took off his clothes, not looking at anybody. Luna stared for a moment, when she saw his scars. Izzy caught a horrified glance into his direction, but she recovered immediately. She really was good. She would be even more wary of him now, but it couldn’t be helped. He wouldn’t give any explanations about how he didn’t make a habit of beating his slaves bloody. 

“It wasn’t him,” Axl said to Izzy’s surprise, looking down onto the bedspread. He hugged himself, as if to hide the extend of the damage done to him. 

Izzy returned to his armchair, leaving them to themselves. He watched a bit more, after this, making sure Axl wasn’t overwhelmed, but he was coping. He allowed Luna to touch him, not anywhere it really mattered, but his face, his shoulders, his chest, even a hand on his thigh. Axl relaxed. Maybe he didn’t forget about his scars, but he stopped being embarrassed. Luna managed to not draw attention to them, while not avoiding them either, when they happened to be in the path of her hands. Izzy returned to his lists.

“Izzy?” he suddenly heard Axl’s voice, when he had just logged into the XXG’s computer system for a remote check of her vital signs. “Can you …”

Luna was lying on her back, her legs spread, but now she sat up. She touched Axl’s face, stroking his cheek. “It’s OK,” she said. “Really, nobody has ever … not this much. You can just ...”

Axl didn’t even look at her. “Can you check?” he repeated. “That she’s really…,” he motioned at her pussy. 

“Ok?” Izzy asked her. 

Luna shrugged and nodded at the same time. Of course, she wasn’t getting the problem, she was a whore. In pretty much everybody’s eyes it was her job to get herself ready, not expect clients to do it for her. And definitely to have an expert come over and doublecheck. 

Izzy didn’t really have to check, he could even smell she was ready. Apparently Axl had put his lessons to good use. Still, he joined them once more on the bed. For a second, he laid his hand onto Luna’s thigh, then brushed briefly about her labia to let her know what he was doing, before he slowly pushed a finger into her. She was dripping wet. She probably had taken care of this before joining them anyway. 

She looked at him with a calculating expression. Then she apparently made a decision and reached for his fly. Izzy just caught her hand, smearing slick over her fingers. He shook his head slightly, trying to make her understand that this wasn’t some weird kink, and that he wasn’t sending Axl in to get his whores ready for him. 

“All OK, you can just go ahead,” he said, only to notice that Axl was … completely flaccid. Awesome. “But you need a bit of work yourself, huh?” 

He bit his tongue after he had said it when he saw Axl’s face close off. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Luna said nervously. “I tried, but he won’t let me…”

“Nobody’s fault,” Izzy interrupted her before she could discuss any further what Axl would consider his failures. 

He pondered his options. He could try to get him hard on his own, but, first, he didn’t even know if Axl would react sexually to him, and second Axl had specifically asked for a girl. And third, this helpless fumbling was so unbelievably uninspiring, that he didn’t want to get hands-on about it. Really not. He wasn’t even turned on by Luna’s wet pussy and he hadn’t had pussy in a long time. 

“Come on,” he finally said and nudged Axl into his side. He settled against the headboard, pushed his boots against the mattress and spread his legs. “Up here.”

Axl scooted over. Izzy pulled him between his thighs and settled him against his chest. “Lie down a bit.”

Axl gave him a confused look, but obeyed. He shifted, until he lay more than sat in Izzy’s lap, his head cushioned on one of his legs. 

“Close your eyes,” Izzy ordered and covered them with his hand. “And stop thinking. Luna is here to do a job, so let her. She’ll get into trouble with her master, if she doesn’t do it properly, and she’s really trying. So give her a fucking chance.”

Izzy nodded into Luna’s direction, and she started to work on him. 

It took ages, but Luna knew her trade. Having learned her lesson about Axl’s personal brand of skittishness, she started slow, using only her hands and carefully gauged each and every reaction. 

At first, Axl twitched and made moves to sit up. 

“Keep still,” Izzy admonished and held him in place. “This is what we came for, remember?”

Axl gave in, after that. He was trembling a bit, whether from fear or pent up arousal Izzy couldn’t say. Maybe a little bit of both. He kept playing with Axl’s hair, massaging his scalp, like he sometimes did, to take the itch off the tightening skin around the electrodes. It was a type of touch Axl was more or less used to, and so he wouldn’t fight it. 

When he finally did grow hard, Luna bent down and licked in tiny movements over Axl’s cock. That elicited another flinch, but also a soft groan. Encouraged she moved forward. 

“Good?” Izzy asked. He laid one arm over Axl’s chest, restraining him lightly in his lap, in case he should suddenly panic again, all the while keeping his other hand over his eyes like blinkers on a skittish horse. 

Axl nodded. 

“I think he’s ready,” Luna told him eventually. She had given up dealing with Axl directly, and Axl had given up dealing with her. Izzy removed his hand and Axl looked up at him, eyes pleading for directions. It was just the way he had not wanted it to go down. In his opinion nobody was ready to have sex if he could not do so without a third party holding his hand, but here they were. 

He gave Luna the ‘go ahead’. 

“Just do it,” he said and she straddled Axl’s thighs, moved herself into position and lowered herself onto his dick. 

It was enough to get another moan out of Axl, but apart from that he was silent. He had probably never learned to let go, not even when jerking off. There wasn’t any privacy on Tarui and old habits died hard.

Luna started moving her hips, slowly again, testing the waters. To Izzy’s surprise all went smoothly so far. He propped Axl up a bit, wondering if they would manage on their own now. Problem was, Axl was still not really comfortable, he was simply aroused, and if he flipped now, Luna would take more than just a couple of bruises around her wrist. So, he stayed. 

Axl had always been a good student, and he had apparently listened when Duff had explained the wonders of the female sex to him. At least he did remember that, in order to make a girl truly happy, he was supposed to stimulate her not only before, but also during intercourse. He reached down between them and Luna’s look of utter surprise was almost as priceless as Axl’s wonder at the frenzied little gasps she started to make. Probably another thing her clients usually didn’t bother with. 

At a minimum, Izzy prided himself, they had trained Axl well. Five to ten years of additional instructions, and they would turn him into a veritable womanizer. 

Luna did experience an orgasm shortly after that, probably out of sheer astonishment that anybody should care at all. It wasn’t anything earth shattering, and she didn’t make the mistake to pretend, but the following contractions were too much for Axl’s feeble stamina, and there he went, too. 

When they were both done gasping, Izzy moved himself out from under Axl’s body and left them lying next to each other while he returned to his screen. They were still well within schedule and he could grant Axl some additional tenderness. He watched out of the wink of his eye how he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Luna. She put her head onto his shoulder and whispered something into his ear, and after he had made certain, that they were both OK, Izzy put his plugs into his ears, started some music and gave them as much privacy as he could.


	17. The Moon and the Stars

Slash watched his drink swirl around the bottom of the glass. They were blue, both the drink and the glass. Here he was, in a bar, after months in space, and instead of having picked up a girl already, having found a room and being in the middle of what he had come here to do, he was staring into colourful fluids. 

The music was good, at least, could be a bit harder, but the rhythm was something Izzy would like. Izzy and his blasted penchant for blues guitar. And why was he thinking about Izzy again? 

There was no denying it any longer: he was envious. Oh, not because of Duff per se, but because of all the lovey-dovey shit that was going on between them. Izzy hadn’t even noticed yet, but he was falling so hard, he would never get up again. 

Slash wanted his own Duff. Somebody who thought he hung the moon and the stars at night, fuck, somebody he would hang the moon and the stars for. After Lis he hadn’t even considered any real relationships anymore.He had been happy with Izzy and Axl and quick, drunken sex in hotels that were paid by the hour whenever the chance arose. Eternal bliss was not for him. Just as it wasn’t for Axl. Or Izzy, as he had thought, until Izzy simply walked into a shop and bought it. Bought it, for fuck’s sake! 

Slash took another sip and calculated his savings. Maybe he should go and buy his own slave. It would be enough, even if Izzy should make him pay for his upkeep. Which he would do. But only Izzy was this lucky. Probably recompense for the good deed of taking in Axl. And if he was honest, Slash wasn’t the type for commitment of this dimension. He hadn’t pegged Izzy to be the type either, but apparently, he had been dead wrong. Maybe he didn’t know Izzy as good as he thought he did. 

He looked up when a woman took the barstool next to him. 

“Hey,” she said. “Never seen you here before. Are you on shore leave?”

“Yeah.” He turned around and had a better look. She was his type, dark hair curling softly around her face, well built, a bit of a rack, nice smile. And she was coming on to him. 

“Can I buy you another one?” 

She pointed at his drink and Slash nodded. He wiped his hair back and made an effort to smile while she waved for the bartender. 

“I’m back home for now,” she said. “The whole month. My ship came in yesterday. This is our home port. How long are you staying?”

“Not that long,” Slash said. “My captain is more of the unsettled kind.”

“Aren’t they all?” She laughed and Slash liked the stud he saw blink in her tongue. “But you’re free tonight?”

He nodded. 

“All of it?” 

“More or less.” 

Izzy didn’t mind if he stayed out all night, as long as he got his work done the next day. But it was always a good backup plan to use his hardnosed captain as excuse, if a date didn’t turn out as planned. 

They talked a bit, chatted about the type of ship they were on – hers was a big merchant and she at least pretended to be fascinated by his account of working for a free trader. 

“Means you get to do a whole lot of different tasks, huh?” she asked. “That must be fascinating. We have a specialist for each and every job and I pretty much maintain the same part of the engines every day.”

“Yeah, can be exciting,” Slash replied.” But the payment is shit.” 

He did not elaborate on how exciting it got when the blasted cooling system gave out and there was just him and Izzy between getting their shit together or being blown to smithereens. He did tell a few anecdotes though, mostly of the funny type. 

She laughed at the required punchlines, told some stories of her own, and he reciprocated with appropriate chuckles. 

“Do you dance?” she asked, not at all turned off by having to do all the work in this seduction scenario. He liked it and she seemed to like it, too. That was the nice thing between spacers, expectations were clear from the beginning. It was all just a question of sounding out the conditions. 

Before he could reply, she hopped of the barstool and held out her hand. He took it and followed her to the dancefloor, where she wrapped her arms around him and swayed back and forward to the heady sound of the blues guitar. Slash pressed himself against her, feeling her breasts move against his chest. Her skirt, short before, rode up another inch when he pressed a knee between her thighs and pulled her even closer. She rested her head on his shoulder and didn’t complain when he allowed his hand to cup her backside. They both knew that they wouldn’t be dancing for more than maybe a song or two, and he realized that he hadn’t even asked about her name. 

+++

Air could be awesome. It was a new revelation to Duff, and one he decided to make the most of. Who knew if he would ever taste air like this again? Maybe it was nowhere else but on this planet? It made him want to run, suck it in, feel it burn like ice in his lungs. 

He did not run, of course, slaves shouldn’t make a spectacle of themselves, but he did walk with a skip in his step, savouring each and every breath he could get. 

The cold was another fascinating experience. At first it had been like a slap into his face, but after a while he had started to enjoy it. He had stuffed the hat into his pocket to feel wind in his hair, not bothering that his ears soon started to hurt. He watched his breath condense in front of him and blew steam into the cold air. 

He started to wish for snow, just like Axl, and he turned hopeful, when he noticed that the sky wasn’t quite as blazing blue anymore as it had been on their arrival. Clouds like these were another thing he had never seen before. He only knew the artificial rain clouds of Pitraria and those were completely different. Here the clouds weren’t black and they didn’t bank up on top of each other the way he was used to either. Instead the sky seemed to hide under a grey blanket, one you might just poke a hole into to see what lay behind. 

After a while he noticed that people were giving him funny looks and he sobered up a bit. It was not only his first time of setting foot on a foreign planet, it was also the first time since his enslavement of being outside alone and unsupervised. At least if he didn’t count that one hour of clothes shopping after Izzy had bought him. 

But Loomah, he realized, was indeed easier to navigate than Pitraria. People were not especially nice to him, but nobody made rude comments, if he forgot to get out of their way, nobody pushed him aside, if he stopped to check his navigational system for directions. And that one time when he had almost gotten lost, a man even asked him what he was looking for, and pointed him into the right direction. If he was honest, he was not treated worse than his caste was treated on Pitraria on any given day. 

When he entered the first shop, he was still apprehensive about placing orders this large and, even worse, having to ask for clarification when something was unclear. But it turned out, as soon as his credentials were verified, they dealt with him the same way they would have with Izzy. Sure, he did not get all the polite pleasantries free people got, but he was treated with a certain professionalism and that was enough. They were willing to explain if he did not understand something and he even managed some timid bartering when he got the feeling, they were being ripped off. 

Eventually he realized that Izzy was checking in remotely, which made things a bit easier. If he was hanging around long enough, he got feedback before he had to go back to the shop assistant and could verify the complete transaction. 

Only one shop was left on his list and he still had quite a bit of leeway on his timer, so he made a little detour to see a bit more of the town. All in all, it was not so different from Roan, just another space port on another planet, but still the feeling was something else. It was more colourful. Shops were not so well ordered. Merchandise was just piled up in corners instead of displayed in a neat fashion, a business might sell clothes in one corner and machine parts in another, or not even differentiate between types of wares at all and put computer equipment right next to cooking utensils. 

Duff did not enter, of course, if he was checked and had no reason to be inside a shop, it would be a problem. But often enough there were little tables full of paraphernalia out on the streets and as long as he didn’t touch, nobody cared about him. 

The last shop was one of the big warehouses that sold pretty much everything on the front and even more in the back, one where absolutely everybody passed through on their way from or to their ships. It was also one of the few that had a security guard right at the door and where he was pulled out of the crowd and not only scanned, but also patted down before he was allowed to proceed. 

Behind the counter, half hidden between multitools, snacks and entertainment chips, he spotted the shop assistant. The first couple of times he had still been wary to approach them, but by now he had lost his apprehension. He knew the deal, keep your eyes down, shoulders slumped and be over apologetic for taking up their time, yes, but at least he didn’t have to wait for them to address him. 

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” he said, voice deliberately low to give her a chance to just ignore him. 

She looked up and smiled at him. That was rare, and meant he could cut right to the chase instead of doing the usual grovelling. 

“My master sends me with a list of equipment he would like to buy.”

“Sure,” she said. “I need your authorization first.”

Instead of just reaching for his wrist, like most people did, she held out the scanner and waited for him to raise his hand. She checked the display and nodded. 

“Do you want to go through the list item by item or would you like me to check first what we have in stock?”

For a moment Duff wondered if she had really understood that he was a slave. She was being far too nice. Just to find out how far he could push it, Duff stood up straight and looked her in the eye. She was at least twice his age and didn’t even come up to his shoulder, but she still smiled at him. Lora, her name tag said, not that he would ever address her by name. 

“Can I just transfer the list?”

“Sure.” Lora was still smiling. “That would probably be easiest.”

Duff dared smiling back and she wasn’t offended. He had forgotten how that felt, just being nice instead of submissive. He almost regretted that he hadn’t suggested to go through the list together. 

She entered everything into the system and a few minutes later she came back with the counter list. 

“I’m afraid there are some items I can’t just release to you,” she said and turned the screen towards him. “Quixx is considered a potentially weapon-grade substance and I need your master to authorize it in person. Not remotely. He would have to come here and show his license.”

“That’s OK,” Duff replied, wondering why Izzy would buy weapon-grade material. But he was Izzy. He probably had a hidden combat system somewhere on the XXG. “He wanted to pick me up anyway. Is it Ok, if I …?” he pointed at the shop floor that seemed to stretch over at least an acre.

“Oh, sure.” She nodded a little absently. “Just look around. I’ll keep the account open.”

Duff felt for the payment chip in his pocket. He wouldn’t say that he’d never had money to just spend on frivolous stuff, but it surely hadn’t happened on a regular basis. The possibilities were endless and he walked aimlessly along the shelves, looking at random things that piqued his interest. He was just browsing through the newest music chips, when he noticed Izzy out of the wink of his eye. 

“Oh hey, Izzy,” he said and turned around. “I just …” 

It wasn’t Izzy. The man held a certain resemblance, but was a couple of years older and quite a bit bulkier. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” he quickly said, when he noticed the man’s hostile stare. 

The man came nearer, still staring. 

Duff made a step back and raised his hand a few placating inches. “I just confused you with my master, sir. I did not mean to be insolent.”

“Come on, we’ve got something to discuss.” The man grabbed Duff’s wrist. “Outside.”

Duff tried to pull his hand back, but the man held on. 

“You’re coming with me.” He pulled at Duff’s arm. “Now, slave, or you’ll get into so much trouble, you’ll never recover from it.”

“No!” Duff tried again to free himself. “Absolutely not.”

“Out here, now! Don’t put up a fight, you’ll regret it,” he hissed. 

Not so long ago, Duff would have obeyed, but he had spent too much time rekindling the spark of defiance inside himself to just give in to some stranger whose only claim to authority was the lack of a slave collar. 

“I said, no,” Duff growled.

He hadn’t spent all of his life in the backstreets of Roan without learning some dirty tricks. When the man pulled again, he gave in for a second, making him lose his footing just as long. He used the sudden imbalance to bring his knee up into his groin, then boxed him square in the face, cherishing once more the fact that he was left-handed and opponents always tried to block his right arm. He was free. 

Unfortunately, the commotion had alarmed security. Two burly men, the one who had frisked him at the entrance and a second one, came running and Duff knew he stood no chance against their weapons. He was a slave, they would shoot him first and ask questions later. He dropped to his knees, crossed his arms behind his head and was just about to fully lay down on the ground, when he was helped along with a hit of the baton against the back of his head. 

Duff toppled over, and for a moment he just lay there, dazed, while his arms were pulled backwards and something heavy pressed into the small of his back. In reflex he moved feebly against the pain, but that was already too much resistance. Somebody grabbed him by his hair, pulled his head up and smashed it back against the floor. Sharp pain shot up his nose right into his brain. The pressure eased off his back and he tried to roll into himself. Something was pressed against his neck and he got a full taser load into his body. 

After that, Duff lay still. Even if he had tried, he wouldn’t have been able to move. He couldn’t breathe either. Muscles were cut off from nerves, a high-pitched noise rang in his ears, blocking out any other sounds, his head was spinning, and not passing out took all the willpower he could muster. He tasted blood, and when he was finally, finally able to suck air into his lungs, he realized that breathing through his nose had turned impossible. He was pulled once more into position and his shackles were clicked together. 

“This your slave?” somebody asked through the ringing and Duff wanted to deny it. He worked on getting his tongue to operate, but to no avail. He seemingly did manage a move though, because he got a kick into the ribs for his efforts. 

“Yes, so sorry for the trouble.”

“He should be under control,” the voice went on. “He seems to be dangerous.”

Duff was grabbed by his collar and pulled upwards. His muscles still wouldn’t cooperate and all his attempts to get his knees under himself were hopeless. He gagged when the metal pressed into his larynx and wondered if he would be choked to death with his own collar. In a weird flash of a vision he saw Izzy looking down in exasperation at the corpse he now had to deal with, and where was Izzy anyway? Wasn’t his time running out? 

“He’s not, but I can only apologize for his behaviour. It won’t happen again. I’d best get him off your hands right away.”

‘No!’ he thought and apparently, he had managed to say it aloud because he was pretty sure that was his own voice he was hearing. “He’s not… my….master,” he forced out. 

“You still don’t have enough, do you?” He was grabbed by his hair again, his head pulled to the side. 

“He’s … not… my… master!” Duff repeated. 

It took him all he had, but if he gave up now, he would be gone. Maybe Izzy would manage to find him via his tracker, but maybe not. And maybe he wouldn’t even bother, a small, helpful voice at the back of his mind provided. He knew where Izzy had taken Axl. He might just go back to buy himself a new catamite for even less than he would lose with wasting his time looking for the lost one. 

“He’s … not…,” he tried again, but stopped when the taser was pressed against his throat. 

“You can get another load,” the security guard said. 

No, he couldn’t, Duff knew. Another shock would incapacitate him for too long. He needed to stay awake if he wanted to stand a rat’s ass of a chance to make it out of this. 

“Sir?” he heard a different voice now, female. The shop assistant, he realized. Lora. “Sir, before you leave, could you please verify your order?”

“I… what?”

Duff squinted, and the man who looked a little bit like Izzy turned around to her. 

“Your account is still open. The order you just placed.”

“I didn’t place an order,” the man said. 

“No, sir, of course not, but your slave did.” She pointed at Duff. “In your name. And it needs some verification, I’m afraid.”

“Just cancel it,” the man snapped and Duff flinched back when he reached for him. 

“Of course, sir, but that would also require your authorization. It won’t take more than a minute. If you would just…”

“Listen, lady…,” the man interrupted her. “I don’t care. I didn’t authorize him to do anything, just cancel it. I have my hands full of my disobedient slave here, can’t you see?”

“Sir,” Lora continued without sounding the least bit put off. “Your slave showed me legitimation to place an order about classified material. And it looked pretty genuine to me. If you did not authorize him, then he managed to hack into a system he has absolutely no business being in. That would mean I have to call the port guard to clarify the issue. He will likely be confiscated and you will be facing a hefty fine. Or, which what I start to believe is much more likely, the slave is telling the truth and you are indeed not his master.”

Duff wanted to kiss her. If he wasn’t Izzy’s bed slave already, he would go ahead and ask her to marry him. 

“So, sir,” she went on, her voice still impeccably polite. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave our house or else I will have to call the port guard. You are of course free to file an official complaint.”

Duff slumped forward. He heard footsteps, but all he could still see was a blur of colours while sounds were bleeding into each other again. There were more voices now, somebody talking in an overly imperious way. With a bit of difficulties, he could make out actual words through all the droning. 

“Somebody tried to kidnap a slave, sir,” Lora said. 

“In our house?” the voice boomed on. “Well, luckily security prevented the worst. Get this … uhm … get him out of the shop room. He’s disturbing the customers. And we need to … I assume the port guard?”

“His master should be here any moment,” he made out Lora’s voice again. “When I scanned him there wasn’t that much left on his timer and he mentioned his master would come to pick him up.”

“Oh that’s … that’s certainly better than involving the authorities, might … uhm. All right get him… I’m sure there’s somewhere he can wait. Lora, I believe there are customers waiting, aren’t there?”

Duff was grabbed under his arms. Somebody unlocked his ankles and he was pulled up. He struggled a bit to get his feet under him, and while his legs weren’t working properly yet, they gave him at least enough leverage to not be dragged along. 

He didn’t really see where they were going, just that they were passing doors, that the lighting changed and that he was then dumped unceremoniously on the ground somewhere else. Another door closed and it went dark. 

Duff tried to clear his nose, but it was hopeless. The exertion of the short walk had been enough to make it bleed harder and he couldn’t even wipe his face with his hands still shackled on his back. It was also uncomfortably warm where ever he was and sweat soon itched under his thick coat. He wished he had gotten a chance to take it off. It would also be smeared with dirt and blood now and maybe it was even torn and he had maxed out his clothes allowance for at least a year. Hopefully it wasn’t beyond mending. 

Izzy would be here soon, he told himself to keep the shaking at bay that, inch by inch, took over his whole body. He closed his eyes against the dark, and started slowly counting backwards from 999.


	18. A Night to Remember

As predicted, they had left the dancefloor after less than one song. 

“I have a room not far from here,” she had said, and Slash tagged along while she held on tightly to his hand; like he was a prize she didn’t want to let go off. He still didn’t know her name and they were rapidly reaching a point where asking would become pretty damn embarrassing. Thinking some more about it, they had passed that landmark about one or two hours ago. He would just have to resort to ‘baby’, ‘honey’ and ‘sugar’.

The night was cold enough to sober him up a bit. Not that he was that drunk, just a little tipsy; enough to let loose, not enough to become careless and try to spend the night. They would have sex, he would take his leave and be back home before dawn, sleep a couple of hours, and start on his to do list. 

Apparently, he had been slacking while thinking because Honey … Honey he decided he would call her … slowed down, too and pressed herself against his side. 

“Getting second thoughts?” she asked. “Which is OK, by the way. It was still nice meeting you.”

“No,” he said, quickly. “No, how far …?”

“Not far now. Just around that corner. Over there. It’s a warehouse, mainly, but there are a couple of rooms on the upper floor. It’s cheap and I only need it between tours. Don’t expect anything much, it’s really just a storage hole for what I can’t take along.”

“That’s fine,” Slash replied. “When I was living on planet, I had one of those holes, too.” 

That would have been those few months when he had been dating Lis. He had just let his ship sail and stayed, finding a place to live and playing guitar to sustain it. 

“Wasn’t that often.”

“And you call your captain the restless type,” she laughed. “You’re just as restless.”

“Probably,” he admitted, not willing to think about Izzy. Izzy and his shenanigans took up far too much room in his head. He was here to forget about him, not bring him into a mental threesome. 

The house was really just a storage place. The sliding door stuck and needed three attempts until it finally opened with a screech that made him want to run for lubricants. The ground floor was just one big open plane, almost empty, except for some crates and boxes along one wall. The open metal staircase reminded Slash of the XXG. It gave off the same rattles and seemed equally unstable in some areas. Not that it really mattered. If it broke apart before they got up, there should be room enough on the ground floor to still get to final base. But despite making suspicious noises, it did not disappoint, and Slash and Honey made it to the upper floor. She took his hand again and pulled him down an open gallery, until they reached another door at the very end. 

“And here we are,” she said and opened the door with a flourish. “Casa Chaotica. Now, where’s the fucking light switch…”

The light came on and Slash looked around. It was not just a room, but a small apartment, furnished sparingly, and without the slightest personal touch. The bed was made and the room tidied up. A couple of bags, still packed, and cardboard boxes stood in a corner, all neatly stacked up one on another. Either Honey was an orderly person or she had planned for the night. 

She picked a screen off a desk and seconds later music filled the room. It was the same type of blues music the bar had plaid, and Slash felt himself easily float back into his previous mood. 

“Would you like a drink?” she asked. 

He took a beer, although he craved something a lot stiffer. Sadly, he had made it a rule to either get laid or drunk, not both at the same time. They settled on a sagging couch and Honey put her feet up on the coffee table. Slash didn’t know what to say. So far, she had led the conversation, he realized, but now she was silent. He had never been the pushy type – had never needed to, if he was honest. His looks were good enough that signalling his intentions usually landed him where he wanted to be, and if not, well, there were girls enough in every port of the galaxy.

“How about…,” Honey set her drink down and put a hand onto his chest. “… how about we skip all the niceties and cut to the chase.” 

Slash nodded. They both knew why they were here. He put his drink beside hers and gently tipped up her chin before he kissed her. Her mouth was warm and inviting and the stud in her tongue was an interesting stumbling block for his explorations. Slash pushed a hand under her shirt, then slowed down, unsure if despite her assurances, he was going too far. 

He needn’t have worried. She was all over him in a heartbeat, straddling his lap, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him within an inch of his life. 

Breathless he pulled away. 

“Too fast?” Honey asked, but Slash only shook his head. If she was going at this rate, he was determined to keep up. 

“Bed,” she gasped and on the way over they lost all of their clothes. 

Slash marvelled at her smooth skin, her heavy breasts, her well rounded ass. He ran his hands through her hair, and a mischievous smile flashed over her face. 

She was on top of him again, pushing him back against the headboard, her pussy moving back and forward over his quickly hardening dick. Slash laid his hands onto her breasts, then bowed forward and sucked a nipple between his lips. She hissed when he worried it a little with his teeth, but made no moves to pull back, even pushed her chest further into his face. 

Slash kept his mouth at her breasts, but moved his hands down to her ass, kneading the flesh down there until he felt her go wet against him. He reached between her legs and felt for her pussy, found her clitoris and gently rubbed it between two fingers before moving them into her. 

Honey bore down onto his hand without the slightest hesitancy. Her hair fell forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and Slash found his face buried between her breasts. Without changing their posture, he reached for his dick, brought it into position and then he was inside her. Belatedly he realized that he should have asked about birth control. But after today they would never meet again, so hopefully she had taken care of it. If not, well, nothing he could change now. 

She took him in stride, rolling her hips a little more, working for her own pleasure just as much as for his. 

“I think I’ll…,” he gasped embarrassingly soon, but she reached down and squeezed his cock painfully at its base. 

“Don’t you dare,” she said. “We’ve only just started.” 

It turned out, they really had only just started. Honey brought him to the edge and pulled him back again at least a dozen times. She knew exactly how to get him going and she knew exactly how to make him last. When he finally came, it was with such force, that he thought he was passing out. 

Honey rolled off him and he heard her gasping for breath. 

“Wow,” Slash finally brought out. “Honey, you were brilliant.” 

He opened his eyes, turned his head into her direction, and stared down the barrel of a gun. 

“Glad to hear that,” Honey said. A pair of manacles was dangling from her other hand and she tossed them into his lap. “And now you’ll take these and cuff yourself to the headboard, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, what…” 

“Cuffs,” she said. “Now. Then we can talk.”

Slash’s thoughts raced. She wouldn’t shoot him, not after they had just had mind blowing sex. Or would she? Yes, she would, he realized, when she levelled the gun like a professional. Gnashing his teeth, he complied. Izzy would have a field day over this. Chained to the bed by a hunter. There was no way he was ever going to live this one down. 

Cuffing himself while fiddling the manacles through the bars of the headboard was a bit awkward, but he managed. Unobtrusively he checked his bracelet while doing so, and realized that it wasn’t picking up any signals at all. 

“Jammer,” she said, when she noticed his upset look. “Bracelets don’t work in here. Second hand, come on.”

“Bitch,” he said when he was done. 

“Name’s Aino by the way,” she said. “Since you forgot to ask.”

“You didn’t ask for mine either,” he spat. 

“That’s because I already knew it.” 

She stood up and started to dress, not in the clothes from last night, but in the typical spacer outfit of working pants and practical shirts. He couldn’t help but think that she was still gorgeous. Absolutely his type. Which reminded him… 

“What do you want? Why this show?”

Aino settled on the bed again, so close he could have kicked her.

“Isn’t the bounty enough?” She wiped his hair out of his face and ran a thumb over his lips. Slash had to restrain himself to not bite her. “It’s quite substantial.”

“So that’s what you want?” 

Slash did his best to not let his fear get the better of him. He hadn’t been handed over to the authorities yet. As Izzy had said, Loomah did not extradite, which meant she had to get permission to take him off planet, and that was more of a hassle than hunters usually bothered with. Which meant, she would be willing to barter. 

He made a rough estimate of his savings, but he knew in advance that it wasn’t enough. He would have to take a loan from Izzy and, boy, was he looking forward to that. 

“How much do you want?” he asked. “As far as I know the usual is the bounty plus twenty percent.”

Aino shrugged. “Sorry, sugar, but… there’s nothing you can do to pay me off.”

“Don’t tell me you’re doing this for law and order and the good of mankind,” Slash exclaimed. “Really? Me?”

She laughed as if he had said something incredibly funny. 

“All in good time, sweetheart, all in good time. This isn’t about you, so don’t worry your pretty head about it. For now, get comfortable. We’ll be here a while.”

“Do I at least get a blanket?” 

“Why?” she asked. “You cold? I can turn up the heating?”

Slash rolled his eyes. Here he was sitting in all his naked glory, hands shackled to the headboard, still covered in sweat and … other body fluids. She looked him up and down appreciatingly. 

“Honestly, you’re nice to look at. Why obscure the view?”

With that, Aino took a screen of the nightstand and started to read. Conversation time was apparently over and Slash prepared himself to wait.


	19. Customer Service

Axl had been quiet ever since they had left the whorehouse. Izzy couldn’t say he was unhappy about it. He didn’t feel like talking either. Hands deep in his pocket, chin pulled into the collar of his jacket, Axl walked next to him, pondering whatever it was that needed deeper ruminations. 

“You OK?” Izzy asked after a while, when Axl was apparently too deep in thoughts to take much notice of his environment. He was always curious about anything and just looking onto his feet was not his style. 

“Yes,” Axl said. “Yes, I think so.”

“Was it like you expected?” 

“I don’t know.” 

They walked in silence for a while, but Izzy had made clear that he was ready to listen, should Axl be ready to talk. He would come eventually, be it in a minute, in a day or in a month, but he would come. 

“She said, the first time was the worst,” Axl suddenly started. “Luna. Said I shouldn’t worry, it would get better. She thought you were breaking me in. For … you know… as a whore. She said, some people got off on … on the way I look. The scars n’ shit. She asked me if it was what you bought me for.”

Izzy shrugged. “There’s a clientele for everything, I suppose.”

“She said it was nice of you to … uhm … initiate me like this. Give me a bit it of time before … you know.”

“Does it bother you? That she thought that?”

“No.” Axl shook his head. “No, I mean, what’s the difference, right? I mean … she is one, … and I did, … would be a bit hypocritical to mind, wouldn’t it?”

“Probably.” 

“Do people really get off on … scars?”

“I guess,” Izzy said. “Some might. Others not so much. Doesn’t matter, ‘cause your scars are a part of you, Axl. Just like mine. Once there’s somebody in your life, well, I guess they’ll just have to deal with them. Suppose that’s something we have in common.”

“There will never be anybody in my life,” Axl gave back. He didn’t sound whiny though, just matter of fact.

It was not likely, Izzy had to silently admit. “You’ll never know,” he said nevertheless. 

They walked in silence again, and Izzy pondered what had, and more importantly what hadn’t been said.

“You’re not worried that this is the reason why I did it? That I’m planning on renting you out?”

“No.” He shook his head violently. “No, I’m not.”

“Good. Then what …” 

“I don’t know, just … I really wanted to know what it’s all about, but I don’t think I want to do this again. Not even if it gets easier. At least not like this.”

“Good,” Izzy said, doing his best to not let relief bleed into his voice. 

He had been a bit afraid of Axl asking for a repeat, and he had been even more afraid that he might grant him one. With Axl things always went out of proportion. What started small could grow into epic drama in a heartbeat. 

“Good then, how about we hurry a bit and pick up Duff? His tracker is running low.” 

The warehouse he had told Duff to wait at was one he frequented pretty much each and every time he came through Loomah. He knew Duff had already been there, he’d seen the open account on his screen, but when they entered, Izzy could not find him. He felt a tingle of irritation as he checked the timer. Not enough left to go on a wide swept search through the neighbourhood, and anyway, Duff had received orders to wait, not stroll through town. 

He checked the tracker which claimed that Duff was near, but he still couldn’t spot him anywhere. Then he had a look at the complete route Duff had taken, but according to the record he hadn’t left again after entering this store. 

Izzy approached the woman behind the counter. 

“scuse me, Miss,” he said and she turned to him in an instant. 

“I’m Lora, sir, how can I help you today?” she asked. 

“I’m looking for my slave,” Izzy said, irritated by her smile. 

It was a custom that was really grating on his nerve, each and every person who wanted to sell him something did so with this fake smile on their face and, worse, expected him to smile back. He never did. 

“He’s about this tall,” he held his hand up about two feet above his head, “and blond and sometimes a bit…,” yeah, how best to describe Duff’s special brand of goofiness? 

“Oh, Captain Isbell, is it?” 

“Yes,” Izzy said slowly, not surprised when her smile vanished.

“I …,” she hesitated and a feeling of dread swept through his stomach, “may I ask for identification first? I know it’s unusual, but there has been an incident and I’d rather…,”

Izzy held out his hand and she scanned his bracelet. “What did he get up to?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” she quickly said. “Somebody tried to steal him.”

“Somebody what?” Izzy pulled his hand back and quickly turned around to check on Axl. He was standing a few steps behind, waiting, not in any danger of being kidnapped. “Where is he?”

“The break room, I think. There’s a couch.” She pointed at a door that lead out of the shop floor. “He was … a bit hurt.”

Izzy felt his expression darken. 

“Not seriously,” she quickly added, apparently seeing something on his face that did not exactly calm her down. “Just … roughed up.”

“I want my slave,” Izzy said. “Now.”

“Yes, of course, I…” She logged out of the computer and asked him to follow. 

“Axl,” Izzy snapped and jerked his head into the woman’s direction. Axl caught up and they passed through the door into the employee’s tract. 

“Does this happen often?” he asked Lora. “People trying to steal slaves?”

“No,” she said. “In fact, never. Which is why we didn’t handle it well, I’m afraid.”

Izzy didn’t ask what she meant by that. He would see soon enough. They had reached what had to be the break room and Lora stared at the empty couch. 

“Where is my slave?” Izzy grated out. 

Did they really just leave Duff alone after somebody had tried to kidnap him? 

“One moment.” Lora activated an intercom. There was some babbling on the other side. “What… all right.” She finished and turned back to Izzy, looking suddenly very uncomfortable. That did not bode well. “He’s over there.” 

They passed another corridor and she unlocked a door at its very end. It was a storage room, Izzy realized, empty shelves, boxes in the corners, and on the bare concrete floor lay Duff, eyes closed, hands shackled, blood all over his face. 

“You can’t be serious,” he snarled, but then his attention was on Duff and he knelt down next to him. 

“Hey, kid.” He pulled his scarf off his neck and started wiping at the blood. Most of it seemed to be coming from his nose, which he was sure hadn’t been crooked before. “Duff? Can you hear me?”

His skin was hot and sticky, and Izzy noticed not only taser marks on his neck, but also deep bruising, as if somebody had dragged him around by his collar. 

A strangled noise behind him reminded him of Axl. 

“Help me here,” Izzy said, just to give him something to do and keep him from killing innocent bystanders. “Cuffs off, and we need to get him out of his coat. He’s too hot.”

“Miss,” he asked, but she was gone, he noticed, only to be back again with a first aid kit and a bottle of water. 

“There’s a bathroom down there,” she said, but Izzy shook his head. They couldn’t move him before he had at least an idea about what was wrong with him. 

“I’m so sorry,” she added. “This shouldn’t have happened. I really thought…”

“Yeah,” Izzy said, not in the mood for excuses. None of this should have happened, but still it had. 

Axl had freed Duff from too much clothing and he started to moan and move a bit. 

“Duff! You hear me, kiddo, come on. Eyes open. Now!” Izzy lightly slapped his cheek a few times. 

To his relief Duff did open his eyes. He was also making noises, pained little groans in addition to the sniffles through his broken nose. 

“Izzy?” he asked. 

His arms flailed about as he tried to find his bearing. Axl propped him up from behind and soon they had him halfway upright.

“Yeah, yours truly. Here, drink something.” He brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it back. Duff took careful sips. 

Izzy wetted his scarf with some more water and did his best to clean Duff’s face. Then he held him still with one hand on the back of his head, while carefully taking the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked. 

“What?” Duff asked back, confused, and Izzy quickly pushed the bone back into position. 

Duff yelped in pain and now he was fully awake. 

“Tape.” Izzy held out a hand and Axl rummaged through the first aid kit for the desired item. “Should do for now.” He pinned a strip over Duff’s nose, making him yelp again. “Good?” 

Duff glared a bit. “You could have warned me,” he said through his clogged nose. 

“Quicker like this,” Izzy said. “Easier, too. Here.” He handed him the scarf to stave off fresh nose bleed. “And, no, I don’t want it back. What were you even doing, getting beaten up by kidnappers?” 

“I didn’t,” Duff replied. “I fended him off all good and on my own, but then security came running and I thought you might be upset if I got myself killed.”

“You mean…,” Izzy turned at Lora. “I send my slave into your shop to run some errant for me, and first somebody tries to kidnap him, and then he is beaten up by your security? And on top of that you stuff him into a cupboard and leave him to suffocate on his own blood?”

“This was indeed our security,” she admitted, her face a deep shade of crimson. 

“The guy outside the entrance?” Axl had gotten to his feet. 

“Yes,” Lora said. “But…”

“Ok.” 

“Axl!” Izzy roared, when Axl was already on his way towards the exit. “Down, now.” 

“You can’t just…,” Axl started to protest, but at least he had stopped. 

“Sit down, Axl!” Izzy snapped and then, for good measure, he gave him a jolt through his collar. 

“Ouch!” Axl yelled. “Did you have to do that?”

“Yes. Sit down and don’t move. That’s an order!” 

To his relief Axl returned and did plop back down behind Duff, albeit with a sullenness that spoke volumes. He hadn’t caved, not yet.

Izzy needed more additional complications like he needed a hole in the head, and explaining to the port guard why his non-natural-slave had beaten up a security man, and why that still didn’t warrant immediate disassembling, was one of the things he could do without. 

“So, back to how your security team did their best to destroy my property,” he returned to Lora, who was casting insecure glances back and forward between him and Axl. What did she expect, an instant whipping? Probably, given the way their team had dealt with Duff. “Is that standard company policy or what?” 

“You don’t have to rip her a new one, Izzy,” Duff said, dapping daintily at his nose and wincing every other second. “She saved my ass. They would have just handed me over without her.”

Izzy glared at her, nevertheless. This was no excuse. In fact, nothing was an excuse. 

“I want the manger,” he said, his voice clipped and cold. 

The manager, it turned out, was not happy to deal with Izzy. 

“Sir, your slave attacked a free man,” he started. 

“My slave defended my property from being stolen,” Izzy corrected. “That’s a difference. And he did that just fine, until your security team beat him into a bloody pulp, tied a bow around him and handed him over to the thief with a flourish!” Izzy’s voice got louder with each word. “Look at him! He’s my bed slave and I can’t use him for at least a week. How is he supposed to suck dick with that nose, huh?”

“I’m sure there will be a way,” the manager stuttered. 

“Ah yes?” Izzy snapped. “Do you really think that sniffling is a turn on? Not for me. And just the way he looks now! He was really pretty! It’s what I fucking bought him for. Now he’s gonna have a crooked nose! I would have to haul him to a freaking surgeon to have that corrected. If you have the time and funds to waste on taking a slave to a medical centre, good for you, but I don’t.” 

He had to stop for a moment, just to come up for air, but he had learned from Axl how one delivered a really good rant, and so he just went on. 

“Any other store on this planet I can send my slaves to without any issues, never had any problems in all my life. I really have a mind to call the port guard and get this sorted out. I want my damage compensated, for fuck’s sake, and if I were staying long enough, I’d drag you to court about this.”

In the end they agreed that Izzy would get most of his order free of charge to make up for the trauma of having his slave beaten up. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, when they were finally ready to leave and it turned out that getting Duff onto his feet was easier said than done. 

He was swaying like a sapling in high wind and dragging him home would be a nightmare. Axl had to prop him up with a shoulder under his arm, and while Axl was stronger than the average human, Duff’s height made things extra difficult. Luckily, after a few steps he had found his coordination and stumbled along on his own. He still made for a pitiful display.

Was there ever anything that could just work out as planned, Izzy thought? No, because life would be normal if it did, and normal was not in the book for them. 

He had asked to see the footage from the security cameras, but the manager babbled something about confidentiality and data protection. As if anything in this galaxy could be kept private. But after just having relieved the company of a shitload of money, he didn’t want to push it. The transaction receipt contained the store-ID, he would have Slash hack into their system, once he was back.

Izzy had tried to contact Slash several times, but he had switched off his bracelet. Which was against the rules, but sadly not uncommon. Usually it meant he had found a really hot girl and didn’t want to risk being ordered back before he was done. He would return in the morning, all smug and self-congratulating and tired out. And as retaliation, Izzy would make him carry crates for a couple of hours right away.

When they walked out the front door, Axl once again honed in on the security detail, but Izzy just grabbed his upper arm and marched him past him, and about ten steps down the street, before he let go again. Then he turned around, walked back and hit the man into his face. His nose broke with a satisfying crunch under his fist and Izzy sauntered off to the sweet tune of pained gasps and not overly imaginative curses. 

“You should have done that a lot earlier,” Axl said. “Like, right away. And there were two, you should have hit the second one, too.”

“Timing is important, Axl,” Izzy said mildly. “You’ll learn that eventually. Think we would have gotten any compensation out of the manger if I had run around, beating his employee’s faces in?”

Duff was not only looking better now that they were outside, to Izzy’s surprise, he walked completely upright and on his own. 

“You were faking,” he reproached. 

Duff grinned, then winced a little. “Just towards the end. I figured it would help your case if I was all pitiful. Do you really think my nose will stay crooked?” 

Full of worry he fingered the body part in question. 

Izzy snorted. “Maybe a tiny bump,” he conceded. “Slash is better at setting bones. He can have a look tomorrow and get it straightened. But don’t worry, you’ll be just as pretty as before.”

Duff nodded, not acknowledging the quip at his vanity. 

“So,” Izzy asked. “What are you going to do with all that money?”

“Huh?” Duff asked. “What money?”

“The money you got for all your pain and suffering.”

Duff stared at him as if he did not understand. 

“The money, Duff. Fuck, weren’t you there? 

“That’s your money,” Duff replied. “For… you know … not getting to use me.”

“Your nose, your money, kid,” Izzy retorted. “I was just … leading the negotiations. On your behalf. And who said I wasn’t getting to use you?” 

“You!” Duff exclaimed. “Because it doesn’t turn you on when I look like this.” He pointed at his face. 

Izzy gave him a sharp look, not sure he was being had. “Don’t be ridiculous. You always turn me on.” 

Duff’s face lit up in a way that totally shouldn’t be making him as happy as it did. 

“And don’t think you get to shirk your duties. Just because you can’t blow me properly doesn’t mean I can’t find other ways to make good use of you. I won’t have you slacking just because of a stuffed nose.”

There was a slight blush on Duff’s cheek now, but he was positively radiating, swollen nose and all. Izzy couldn’t help himself. He had to go on. 

“After all, we have a bit of free time at our hands, tonight, and there’s no reason why I shouldn’t get a bit imaginative about the proper use of my bed-slave.”

“You two are disgusting,” Axl said. “Really.” 

‘And that from somebody who had just fumbled his way through the most awkward sex in the history of man on woman,’ Izzy thought. Or woman on man, in Axl’s case. If he hadn’t been in good enough mood, with just a tingle of unease at the back of his mind, he would have said so. 

Kidnapping slaves was not a normal occurrence. Sure, it might happen if somebody had gotten obsessed about owning a certain slave, but chips, trackers, bracelets, IDs made it very difficult to sell slaves illegally. It was one hell of a hassle and just not worth for something that could be bought on the cheap in every bigger city. 

Duff was pretty, yes, but slaves like him were a dime a dozen. No need to steal one, especially not in front of security cameras in a well frequented shop. It made no sense. And he would have felt a lot better if Slash had finally checked in, and not only because he needed him to hack into the store system. Knowing Slash, that was unlikely to happen before morning, and Izzy refused to worry about grown up crew members. The way he had been indulging Duff and Axl lately had been bad enough. 

He had been thinking for quite some time, Izzy realized, because suddenly Duff spoke up in the typical hesitant way he had whenever he really wanted something, but didn’t dare say. 

“I thought,” he started, looking at his feet, “I mean, if you really want to give me some of the money…,” 

“All,” Izzy corrected. “Not some.”

“Yeah, well, so… if you want to give me some then I thought … maybe I could buy, you know, a drum kit?”

“A drum kit?” Izzy asked. Whatever he had expected, it was not this. 

“If you want to give me that much,” Duff hurried to say. 

Duff knew very well how much money it was, he had seen the sum at the end of the shopping list. 

“It’s a bit more than a drum kit will cost,” Izzy said. “You planning on starting a band or what?” 

“We could put it up in storeroom 3,” Duff quickly said. “There’s already the basketball hoop. You wouldn’t even hear me.”

“And what do we do if we need storeroom 3?” Izzy asked, stifling a smile. 

“Oh fuck, Izzy, then we move it to storeroom 4,” Axl said. “It’s not like we were ever so overloaded that we wouldn’t have found space for a drum kit.”

“So, you agree?” Izzy asked. 

“Fuck, yeah, of course I agree. Let him have his freaking drum kit.”

Izzy shrugged. “If that’s what you want. Sure.” 

Duff beamed, but then he sobered up pretty quickly. “Uhm, I should probably send the money … you know… to my family. I mean, this would really make a difference for them.”

“It’s enough for both,” Izzy said. “Buy yourself a treat. I can order you to do that, if it helps.”

“It might,” Duff replied, but the smile was back. 

“Yeah, well, then consider yourself under orders.”

Duff’s folks would have to learn to get along without him. They could hardly expect the enslaved son of the family to pay for their living. Duff couldn’t have his nose broken every other month to raise enough funds for that. Whatever little allowances Izzy gave him weren’t enough to feed half a dozen kids. Duff deserved his fucking drum kit, if he wanted one so badly. 

“So, you can really play drums? Not just banging on soup pots? How did that come about?”

“I can play pretty much anything,” Duff admitted, as if confessing some kind of sin. “Remember those guys I lived with? They were a band. Not exactly successful, but they were playing the clubs I worked at. Always asked me to join, but I didn’t have enough time for that. I mean, they weren’t exactly making money, you know. So, I only banged around a bit on all their instruments and whenever they needed me to jump in, I did. Mostly I played bass because they never got a permanent bass player and everybody kept saying that was what I did best. But I’ve also played a bit of guitar and did background vocals, and I liked drums the best.”

“You’re really full of surprises,” Izzy said. “First dirt track races, then cooking, and now you were almost playing in a band. What kind of music?”

“This and that.” Duff shrugged. “None of them were as good as Slash and Axl.”

“I’m not…,” Axl sputtered. 

“Shut up, you are,” Izzy replied. “Sorry you had to learn about it like this, man, but you can sing.”

He watched Axl out of the wink of his eye, making sure he didn’t try to run off. It wouldn’t be fair if he got hit by the collar for his embarrassment. But he didn’t look overly embarrassed, just a little crimson around his nose. Until he started to smile and suddenly, he was blushing all over his face. 

Izzy laughed. “So, you three are gonna get famous, huh? Plan on rocking the galaxy?”

“You can be our manager,” Duff said. “You’re awfully good at negotiating. On our behalf, you know.”

“Izzy can be our rhythm guitarist,” Axl corrected and Duff looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, fucker can play guitar. Good enough at least. Don’t look like that, Izzy, I know you sometimes do it when Slash leaves his guitar lying around. You should get one yourself.”

“I don’t have time for hobbies,” Izzy shot back. So what, if he knew how to fiddle strings onto a guitar, that didn’t make him a musician. 

Axl snorted “He also writes songs.”

“I don’t,” Izzy protested. Really, when had Axl gotten that idea into his head? 

“You do,” Axl insisted. “You’re always humming under your breath when you’re on the bridge. And you’re tapping your fingers against each and every surface when you’re thinking. I tried to find out what you were humming, so I hummed it back into the music catalogue of the library. Doesn’t exist. Means you made it up.”

“Hm,” Izzy made. “That’s not the same as writing songs.” 

“Not if you don’t write them down somehow, then not. But you could … you know … just tape the humming. And the tapping. You’ve got a good sense for rhythms.”

“As I said, I have no time for hobbies. Let me know when you’ve decided on a drum kit, Duff. I’ll place the order. But I’m not sure we’ll manage while we’re still here. Might have to forward the order to our next stop.”

Humming. Sometimes he really wondered about the state Axl’s mind was in. Maybe all the electric shocks did more damage than was outwardly visible. 

He looked up when the first snowflakes tumbled down. Axl noted, too, then Duff, and then they were both holding out their hands like children, catching snowflakes, marvelling at their texture and letting them melt on their tongues.


	20. The Way we do Things

When they reached the ship, about an inch of snow covered the ground, just enough to slip and fall as Axl found out when he landed on his ass. 

“I didn’t know it was this slippery,” he said astonished, when Duff helped him up. 

“I didn’t think it would be this wet,” Duff replied, when he inspected Axl’s damp backside. “Never looks wet in the movies.”

“It’s not always this wet,” Izzy replied. “There are different types of snow. Come on, guys, no time for building snowmen. We’ve got work to do.”

The first deliveries had already arrived. Izzy confirmed receipt with the administration, and he and Axl started stacking crates into the storage rooms. Duff was relegated to light duty, mainly deciding what went where. He could be pretty organized if he put his mind to it. Better than Slash at least, who just piled up stuff as it came in, and then complained when what they needed next was buried under tons of shit. So, he sat there with the inventory lists and sorted supplies into the respective slots. 

It wasn’t much yet and they were done in less than an hour. They ate after that, wrapped up another shipment, then another, and then there was time to kill. Izzy itched to have a go at hacking into the store’s system, but he wasn’t as good as Slash. He lacked the patience it took to fiddle himself through the digital labyrinth. Eventually he would just try to go in head first, then he would be blocked and after that there was nothing, they could do at all. 

He pinged Slash again, but no result. Once he came home, Izzy would read him the riot act, of that he was sure. But for now, all they could do, was wind down and watch stupid movies. Luckily nobody complained about not hitting the clubs as promised. Izzy really didn’t feel like any more excitement that night. 

“When’s Slash coming back?” Duff asked when they had settled for some long winding family drama nobody except Axl seemed to care for. 

“Probably in the morning,” Izzy replied. “Why?”

Duff mumbled something unintelligible. 

“What was that?” 

“You said he’d look at my nose,” Duff said after a deep breath. “Will it keep until tomorrow?”

“Does it hurt a lot?” Izzy asked. “I can give you pain killers.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s just …,” Duff tapered off, but Izzy suddenly knew what it was about. 

“Still worried about your extraordinary beauty?” 

Duff blushed. 

“Come on.” He stood up and extended a hand. “I’ll have a look. I’m not as good as Slash when it comes to setting bones, but a broken nose is well within my abilities.”

He got a dubious look as reply. 

“It is,” Axl said, not even taking his attention of the screen. “He set mine. Twice, actually. And about half of my fingers, I suppose.”

Yes, Izzy had set Axl’s bones. When he went into a rage, it could happen that he broke his fingers while trying to get a fist through the wall. The broken nose had been courtesy of Slash’s right hook. Twice. Back then Izzy had been the only one allowed to touch him, and so Axl had contented himself with his mediocre bone-setting-skills. 

“Ok, I guess.” Duff stood up. “If you don’t mind.”

They went to the sick bay and Izzy told him to lie down while he started the scanner. 

“I didn’t know you were so vain,” he said while the system booted. 

“I’m not,” Duff replied. 

“No?” Izzy smiled a little. 

“No, I’m not,” Duff repeated, as if he hadn’t just been endlessly worried about ending with a tiny bump on his immaculate nose. “But my looks are my only asset, and I have to take good care of them.”

Izzy faltered for a moment, but then he positioned the scanner over Duff’s face. 

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” he asked while he checked the damage. He had gotten the bone pretty straight at first try. Even as it was, it would heal well and not restrict the breathing in any form. Getting it a tiny bit to the right and adding a drop of bone glue, would make it perfect. “You have lots of assets.”

“None that matter,” Duff said lightly. It didn’t seem to be an issue to him. “Maybe that I’m good at giving head.”

“Kid.” Izzy got a syringe and filled it with bone glue. That would be the painful part, but it was either poking a needle at the bone or risking that tiny nub Duff was so afraid of. “That’s not true. And you know it.”

“Yeah, it is. Would you have bought me if I weren’t pretty?”

Izzy peeled the tape off. “Can you keep still or do you want me to get Axl and hold your head?”

“I can keep still. Would you have?”

“Probably not,” Izzy admitted. He put his index fingers left and right of Duff’s nose and Duff closed his eyes. It was really just a tiny push and the bone was perfectly in place. “But I wouldn’t have bought you if you were only pretty, either. And anyway, even without a nose, you’d still be pretty. So, stop worrying about that. Hold your breath.” 

Duff winced when he pushed in the needle, but he kept his head perfectly still. 

“There. Done.” Izzy applied another piece of tape. By morning the glue should have set and keep the bone in place, unless somebody decided to knock on it again. “Don’t run against any fists during the next days.”

“It was the floor,” Duff corrected. “Slammed my face into the floor”

“Shit, kid, really,” Izzy said, followed by a string of expletives. 

“Then why did you buy me?” Duff sat up, but made no moves to get off the stretcher. 

Izzy laid his hand onto Duff’s hips and rubbed a bit. Why had he bought him? 

“You didn’t fit in,” he finally said. “That shop? You didn’t belong there. I suppose, if it had been one of the auction houses, I would have walked straight past you, but there? You were sticking out. And I thought you had a bit of an attitude. I liked that. And, even more, I liked that you were able to hide it. Made you interesting.”

“Huh,” Duff said. 

“So, no, I don’t only go for looks.” Izzy even felt a bit miffed at his suspected shallowness. “I bought Axl after all.”

“Axl is beautiful!” Duff protested. 

“He is now,” Izzy said. “But not then. You couldn’t even make out his face under all those bruises. And he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. And his hair was shorn off to stubbles. And he was, so, so dirty. I’m not squeamish, but he was reeking, you could smell him from yards away. He was sitting in that cage, waiting for disassembling and he was still glaring daggers at everybody.”

“And you liked that?” Duff asked. 

“Thought it was a bloody waste to destroy him,” Izzy corrected. “But, no, he wasn’t pretty. Really not.” 

Duff nodded and Izzy rubbed his hand over his belly. There was more, he realized. Something was bothering him. 

“What is it, Duff?” he prodded. “Out. What’s eating at you?”

“I still have to take care of my looks,” Duff said. “Even if it’s not so important for you, it might be for my next owner.”

“For your …,” Izzy stuttered. “Duff, I’m not selling you. Not ever. You know that, right? “

Duff shrugged. “Probably not,” he admitted. “But you can never be sure.”

Izzy grabbed him by the shoulders. “Not. Ever. You’re mine. I keep what is mine and I take care of what is mine. And you’re mine. So, yes, you can be sure.”

“You might die,” Duff gave back, his voice barely audible. 

“Then I’ll leave you to Slash. Slash won’t give a shit about a crooked nose either.” 

“I almost got stolen today. And then I would have been sold. To somebody else.”

“No,” Izzy snapped. “Because I would have gotten you back.”

Duff gave him a look that was so unsure, it made Izzy wonder where exactly he had gone wrong in how he was treating him. 

“You’re chipped, Duff.” He tapped at Duff’s neck, where the chip was embedded. “Within your freaking spine. They can’t remove the chip without rendering you totally useless. And I have you tracked via the bracelet. You know those things are near impossible to get off. And if somebody really might manage to kidnap you and get off the bracelet, I will still come for you. It might take a while and I might not find you right away, but I will come for you. They might take you off planet, and I will come for you. And until then you will do what you have to and you will survive and you will trust that I will come and get you. Because that’s what I’ll do. Understood?” 

Duff's gaze slipped to the side, but he nodded, hesitantly first, then like he really got it. 

“Good,” Izzy said. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around Duff and hugged him to his chest, carefully avoiding his nose. “And I won’t die either. Not anytime soon. And if I die, Slash will take care of you.”

“And if Slash dies?” Duff asked. “Or if somebody finds out about the bounty?”

Izzy had no answer for that. He really hadn’t. 

+++

It was almost midnight when they were finally done in sickbay. Duff lingered, putting stuff from left to right, hoping for a prompt that didn’t come.

“Do you still need me?” he asked finally. “Tonight?” 

Izzy cast him a taxing look. “Yeah, why not,” he said. “Just gotta check on the system. See you in ten?”

Duff nodded, trying to not appear too eager. He didn’t necessarily need any sex that night, but he didn’t want to be alone either. Sure, he could always seek out Axl who would be haunting the ship like its resident ghost, but an hour in Izzy’s bed might take his mind of the day’s ordeal. 

He was already waiting in front of the door, when Izzy arrived to let him in. As usual he did some work on the computer and Duff sat down on the bed, waiting. 

“Here.” Izzy joined him and handed him a bottle of water and a little white pill. “Take that.”

“Painkiller?” Duff asked and flushed the pill down his throat. He wasn’t in pain, not much anyway. 

“No. Should calm you down a bit.”

“I don’t need…,”

“Yes, you need,” Izzy interrupted him. “And you just took.” He brushed a strand of hair out of Duff’s face. “Don’t fret, it’s not a sleeping pill. It will relax, but not sedate you, OK? According to your file, you’ve taken far worse.”

Duff huffed. “So now you’re drugging me?” 

Izzy smiled. “Just a little bit.” 

“You could have told me what it was!”

“You could have asked, Duff. Do you always just swallow whatever anybody puts into your hand? No wonder it bit you in the ass.”

Duff huffed again and Izzy laughed. 

He kept brushing his hand through Duff’s hair and Duff was too exhausted to care much about what he had and hadn’t taken. If Izzy wanted him drug-relaxed for fucking, who was he to say anything against it? 

“Lie down,” Izzy ordered and pushed him backwards. 

“Shouldn’t I…,” Duff pointed at his still completely dressed form. 

“I’ll take care of it.”

And he did. Izzy undressed him to his shorts while Duff waited for the pill to kick in. It didn’t. Not as he had expected, at least. There was no buzz, no drowsiness, nothing, he just slipped inch by inch into a state of mind where he felt oddly content. 

“Does this hurt?” Izzy - and when had he stripped himself - and why were they both still wearing underwear - laid a hand over the bruise on his ribs. 

“A bit,” Duff admitted. “But not bad.”

“Kick?”

“Yes. They got a bit exasperated with me ‘cause I wouldn’t give up.”

Izzy laid down next to him and gathered him into his arms.

“Do you want me to…,” Duff started, remembering that he wasn’t here to cuddle, but to do his job.

“Later,” Izzy replied. “Lie still now. Let me hold you.” 

Duff lay still as ordered. He didn’t mind. He didn’t mind anything, he belatedly realized. Blasted pill. The only thing you could do when drugged was ride it out, he knew from experience, and so he gave himself over to this weird feeling of total non-minding. He concentrated on Izzy’s hand in his hair or on his neck or his back, petting, soothing, rubbing gentle circles over his skin. It felt good, comfortable in a homey way, like he was just where he belonged. 

“Shouldn’t I …,” he repeated, but Izzy shushed him again.

“You can close your eyes for a bit,” he said. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

+++

When Duff opened his eyes again, it was to the smell of coffee. 

“Whassa time?” he whispered, his voice a bit rough. He fingered the bruises on his throat. They were a bit tender, but didn’t really hurt anymore. 

“Seven,” Izzy said and waited until he had sat up before handing him the cup. 

“Seven?” Duff asked, confused. “I don’t remember anything after … after we laid down.”

“That’s because you slept after we laid down,” Izzy replied. 

“Huh.” 

Duff took a sip. The covers had slipped off and he noticed that he was still wearing shorts. So all he had done was sleep? In Izzy’s bed? He had never spent a night in Izzy’s bed. Even if they did doze off for a bit after sex, Izzy always woke him up latest after an hour and sent him packing. And now he had just slept? Without even being of service? 

“Axl will be here in a minute, in case you want to get dressed first.”

“Axl?” Duff asked. Nothing made sense this morning. He took another sip and slowly his brain-fog cleared away. 

“Slash didn’t come home. Usually he stumbles in around the early morning hours, but nothing. And after what happened yesterday … Let’s say, I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Now Duff was fully awake. He still drank the rest of the coffee, watching while Izzy booted the computer. 

“What’re you gonna do?” he asked, when there was a beep from the intercom. 

“Open,” Izzy said, without looking up from what he was doing. 

Duff hadn’t yet dressed, but Axl didn’t seem to mind. He gave him a short once over and that was all. 

“We probably should have done this yesterday, but I really thought it could wait until Slash was back,” Izzy said, when the system was up. “I thought we could just pack it up and leave to avoid any trouble, but doesn’t seem to be the case. Duff, was there anything specific about the guy who tried to kidnap you? Anything at all, clothes, features, did he wear a uniform or could you make out any logos?”

Duff shrugged. “He was pretty average, dressed like all spacers. I thought he looked a little bit like you.”

“Like me?” Izzy froze in mid movement. 

“Yeah,” Duff confirmed, while getting out of bed and collecting his clothes off the floor. “I saw him out of the wink of the eye and thought it was you. I said ‘hi’ or something, before I noticed. I wondered if that had ticked him off.” 

“And you didn’t bother to tell me before?” Izzy asked. 

“I’m sorry for that.” Duff chewed his lip, not sure how to get across that he hadn’t meant to stir trouble. It had just happened. “I know I’m not allowed to address people and I know it’s likely my fault that it all went to shit yesterday.”

“Not that,” Izzy snapped. “That he was looking like me!”

“It was really just superficial,” Duff replied, confused by the sudden agitation. “When I looked directly at him, it was clear he wasn’t you. Do you know the guy?”

“Yeah, probably,” Izzy growled. “Question is, which one is it.”

“Which one?” Axl asked. “How many lookalikes do you have?”

“Quite a few.” Izzy ran a hand through his hair. 

“Does that mean… are you a clone?” Duff blurted out. That would make Izzy an artificial and that would explain why he felt such close kinship with Axl. 

“What, no.” Izzy looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Just … my clan is pretty inbred. We all are. Everybody looks somehow similar. It’s a fucking nuisance.”

“Your clan?” Duff asked. 

“Our dear captain is a space gipsy,” Axl explained. “Really, you never told him? Do you guys ever talk in between all that shagging?”

“No, why would we?” Izzy gave back and Axl looked heavenward in what was probably a silent prayer for mercy. 

“It’s the reason why he’s so fucked up. Anyway, means we’ve got to have a go at it, right? Then you’ll know which of your countless cousins is trying to get back at you.”

“Right,” Izzy confirmed with a sigh. “Let’s not fuck it up, we won’t get a second chance.” 

He turned back to the computer system and for lack of space Axl perched down on the same chair. 

“What are you going to do?” Duff asked.

A space gipsy. Last time he heard they were mainly hovering around the borders, as far away from the overly policed centre of the galaxy as they could manage. He didn’t know much about them, just what pretty much everybody knew: that they were secretive, independent and never strayed from their clan.

“We need the camera footing,” Izzy said. “I wanted to wait for Slash, but without Slash … guess that leaves us. Now, shut up, I need to concentrate.”

Duff settled back on the bed and watched while Izzy and Axl worked, both fully engrossed in whatever they were doing there. Sometimes there were loud discussions, sometimes they insulted each other and sometimes they just stared in silence at the screen without doing anything. Duff made himself halfway useful by keeping them in coffee, but that was all he could contribute. 

“OK, then fucking do it,” Izzy just said when he entered with another freshly brewed load. “If you’re so sure.”

Axl entered something and then everybody seemed to hold their breath, including Duff who was burning his fingers on the coffee mugs. 

“Yeah!” Axl yelled, raising his arms in victory. “I’m the greatest, the bestest, the all and all awesomest!”

“You’ll get a cookie for this,” Izzy said, but he briefly patted Axl’s shoulder. “There it is, let’s have a look.” 

Duff came nearer and handed over the newest batch of hot beverages. It was weird to see himself walking through the store. Did he really look that awkward? Probably. Then he entered the aisle where it had all gone down and he felt a bit queasy. The stranger approached him, but his back was to the camera. 

“Good move,” Izzy said when they reached the part where Duff had managed to free himself. After that, Duff looked away. He didn’t want to watch himself getting stomped into the ground. 

“And here I only broke his nose,” Izzy said. “No wonder you were so shaken.”

Duff could have explained to him that it wasn’t the violence that had shaken him, but rather the fear of getting caught in the same trap he had just barely escaped from. He had indulged in a false sense of safety and this little incident had put his feet firmly back onto the ground of reality. 

“Stop!” Axl suddenly exclaimed. “There’s the face.”

He let the last part run again and then hit stop.

“There. Know him?”

“Yes,” Izzy said, his expression slowly slipping from stony to infuriated. “Oh yes.”

“Then who is it?” Axl asked. 

“Cousin of mine. Removed cousin. Way removed. Soon to be removed from the face of the galaxy.”

“Got that much.” Axl rolled his eyes. “Which one?”

Izzy cast him an irritated glance. “What difference does it make to you, you don’t know any of them?”

Axl shrugged. “Putting a name to the villain sounds like a good idea.”

“Jari,” Izzy replied. “But doesn’t matter, ‘cause he’s not the one behind this. Too stupid. Far too stupid. Can’t even kidnap a man which has already been beaten down for him. No, there’s somebody else behind it and I’d be fucked if I know who it is.”

“No idea?” Axl asked. “I mean, who did he associate with normally? Some other cousin, maybe? Your old man trying to get you back?”

“He’d have sent somebody else. No, whoever used Jari didn’t have that many opportunities.”

“So, what do we do?” Axl asked. 

Izzy pulled his mouth into a nasty little smirk. “We’ll place an advertisement.”

The advertisement was out within minutes. 

‘Mechanic wanted for Interstellaria/XXG. Skilled, unattached, good-looking, curly headed. People with straight hair don’t need to apply. Payment above average. Contact Izzy at Dock No. 97479-GEF.’

The dock number was just a code every ship received. Messages sent to the dock number were forwarded to the ship without giving its identity away. 

“And now we wait,” Izzy said. 

“What if they don’t read the ad?” Duff asked

“They will,” Izzy replied. 

“What makes you so sure?” 

“Because that’s the way we do things.”


	21. Family Reunion

And so they waited. Axl had feared they might have to deal with lots of real applicants, but there was only one. He sent a nude picture of himself and asked for one in return before he would agree to an interview. Duff sent him one of a balding, pot-bellied man in his sixties with poor body hygiene. 

“What if that’s his type?” Axl asked while they were staring at Izzy’s email account. Izzy was doing God knows what, probably unearthing the nuclear defence system he was likely hiding somewhere. 

“Then he’ll be sorely disappointed,” Duff replied. “And anyway, I don’t share.”

Axl grinned at him. “He finally let you stay in his bed the whole night.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t even aware of it. Because I was asleep,” Duff said totally disgusted with himself. 

“I heard that’s what people usually do at night. Not that I would know.”

A message popped up and Duff almost spilled his tea. 

“What…,” Axl asked and looked at the content line. “About you? Is that you? Duff McKagan? That was your second name?” Duff had lost his second name when he became a slave and had acquired an additional identification code instead. Axl had never had a second name. If he was honest, he never even had had a first name, just a number. ‘Axl’ was his own invention. 

Duff nodded.

“Why is somebody writing Izzy about you?”

“That’s from my family.”

“Your…,” 

Axl was stunned, then he kicked himself for his idiocy. Of course, Duff had a family, it was nothing new. Izzy had a clan he wasn’t on speaking terms with, Slash had a grandmother he sometimes sent messages to, and Duff had a family. He didn’t talk about them much and Axl had never asked. He had the feeling, being reminded of his old life made him sad. And if they all agreed on one thing onboard this ship, then that you didn’t talk about the ghosts of your past if you could at all avoid it. Which was the reason they were currently getting their asses handed to them in some epic way.

“Open it,” Axl said. 

“No,” Duff replied. “I can’t. It’s Izzy’s account.”

“But it’s for you. Or isn’t it? Is Izzy writing to your Mom to ask about your bedtime routine?”

Duff showed him the finger. 

“I wrote to them. And Izzy sent it off. And this is the reply.”

“Then read it.”

“But it’s Izzy’s…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Axl opened the message. “There.” He turned around. “I won’t even look. Now read it.”

He left the cabin and went to the kitchen for more tea. And cookies. Why was Izzy even rationing the fucking cookies? They had tons of those, and except Duff nobody really ate them. When he returned, Duff was still looking at the screen. 

“Must be a long message,” Axl said. 

“I’m done. Just don’t know … can you help me with the reply?” He looked unsure and then he suddenly wiped at his eyes. “Sorry. I know it’s not the right moment. Just, we’ll leave soon and then I can’t reply anymore.”

“Sure,” Axl handed him the mug. “I’d have to…,” he motioned at the screen. 

“Yeah, go ahead, read it.”

Axl took a deep breath. He had never read anything personal in all his life. He had never gotten any letters, never had any family who might be worrying about him, no friends, no connections, nothing. Everything he had was right here around him, and Izzy would submit him to an extra round of shock therapy if he started to write him letters. Maybe he should do it, just to see his reaction. 

_‘Dear Duff_

__

__

_You can’t imagine how relieved we were to get a message from you. We are very glad you were sold to such a good place. We know you will do your best to earn your keep. Just do as you’re told and things will work out. We hope we will hear from you again, even if it might take some time. We all miss you.’_

Then a string of names ended the message. 

“They think Izzy’s reading over your shoulder,” Axl said. “Either that or they hate your guts and are glad that you’re gone.”

“He said he wouldn’t,” Duff protested. 

“And he won’t. But they don’t know that. Where’s the message you sent?”

Duff scrolled down and showed it to him. 

“Really,” Axl said. “This is the worst letter I’ve ever read.” 

It was also the only letter he’d ever read, but Duff didn’t have to know that. He’d had read books that were written letter-style and those letters didn’t sound in the least the way Duff was writing. 

“I’ve only ever written this one,” Duff replied sheepishly “I’ll get better with practice.”

“Hopefully. Or you’ll be sending this shit back and forth where nobody says anything of any importance.”

“Then what do I write?” Duff asked. 

“First of all, don’t write ‘my master’. Really, Duff, that makes them think he’s standing behind you, flicking the whip. Call him fucking Izzy, for fuck’s sake.” 

“But they don’t know his name,” Duff protested. 

Axl buried his face in his hands. “You’re writing from his account. By now they have run a galaxy wide internet search on him and probably know the colour of his underwear just as well as you do. What do you want to tell them?”

Duff shrugged. “That I’m happy here. That’s what I wrote.”

“That’s what every slave would write if their master was reading over their shoulder. You have to make it believable. Make them see it.”

“We could send a photo!” Duff exclaimed. “Of all of us!”

“Izzy refuses to have his picture taken. It’s his paranoia.”

At least they now knew why he was so paranoid. 

“And you have a broken nose and a bruise on the side of your face and your throat looks like you have been slow hanged from a pulley. Add Izzy glaring all moodily and brooding into the camera, and they’ll surely believe that you got the most benevolent master in the entire galaxy. Maybe we can take one of both of you naked in his bed, to prove that he doesn't subject you to unsavory activities.”

Duff blushed. “I guess it’s better to not tell them about that. They might misunderstand it.”

“They might understand it just the way it is,” Axl countered. “Which is fucked up, but it is what it is.”

“And that from you,” Duff hit back. “How did the second round of sexual education go, huh?”

“Asshole,” Axl said. That was really a low blow. “I think it went OK,” he then added because, what the hell, if there was one person who could enlighten him about this shit, it was Duff. “I just didn’t like it much.”

“Wasn’t good?” All belligerence was gone from his voice. That was the problem with Duff, he was just too fucking nice for his own good. Couldn’t hold a grudge for five minutes. 

“No, it’s not that. The girl … she was really nice. And it was good to … you know …see it all in reality, I guess. But she had these … breasts.”

“They all do, Axl.” Duff said mildly amused, but not enough to be annoying. “I heard that was the point of doing it with a girl. Breasts and pussy in comparison to no breasts and dick.”

“Have you ever?” Axl asked. “With a girl?”

“Yeah,” Duff replied. “Sure. I had a girlfriend for almost six months. She also had these … breasts.”

Axl wanted to throw his mug at him, but he had promised Izzy not throw shit anymore. So, he only showed him the finger. 

“That’s the issue? It’s OK to not like girls, you know. Some people don’t.”

“You do,” Axl replied. “And Slash does. And Izzy.”

“So?” Duff shrugged. “I don’t like broccoli. But you do. And Slash does. And Izzy does. Do I now have to like broccoli, too? Or do I have to pretend to like it and eat it all the same? Or will I start liking it if only I eat enough of it? Or is it just that nobody ever cooked broccoli the right way for me and I will start to like it if I only get it prepared just so?” 

“That’s not the same,” Axl protested. 

“It’s exactly the same,” Duff said. “Really. They keep telling you this shit, but that’s all it is: shit. You don’t have to like both. I know, most people do, but if you don’t? Who cares? Slash doesn’t do both either, I think. At least not much. I’ve seen his porn history on the system, and I reckon for him it’s all about these … breasts.”

Axl still refrained from throwing something, but he did hit him hard enough to leave a bruise. Duff only grinned. 

“Shut up,” he said, not willing discuss this any further. For if he did, he might tell Duff how things suddenly changed, when Izzy settled him between his legs and covered his eyes with his hand, and how he had breathed in Izzy’s scent of smoke and machine oil and how he had just tuned out Luna and had pretended it was Izzy’s mouth around his dick and Izzy’s hand on his balls. 

Even when he had remembered what he was supposed to do to make it good for a girl and when he had looked at Luna again, he had concentrated on Izzy’s body behind himself, trying to tune her out as good as possible. 

And that was really fucked up because he definitely didn’t want Duff’s position. Having to be of service whenever Izzy asked for it, bearing his attentions, whether he wanted or not, all that touching he wouldn’t be able to escape from, body parts in his mouth, up his ass. 

Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. Being his pet – and he knew he was Izzy’s pet – was bad enough, being his toy would be infinitely worse. So no, he wasn’t jealous, on the contrary, he was so glad Izzy had never tried to take from him what Duff so casually allowed him to commandeer. And still, here he was, craving what he didn’t even want.

“We’ve got to write a letter,” he stated and began to type, only to stop again after the first word, remembering that they were here for a completely different reason.

For a second, he felt awful about their callousness. Slash was missing and they were talking and joking as if everything was just peachy. He wondered if that made him cold hearted, but nobody survived the slave camps without successfully deadening one’s feelings. All of his life people had been hurting, dying, vanishing all around him, and he had stopped caring for what he couldn’t change. He would have gone mad otherwise. He probably had gone mad. He was just surprised that Duff apparently had reached a similar state of blunt practicality after less than a year. 

“He’ll be fine,” Duff said, as if reading his thoughts. He probably did, observant little motherfucker that he was. “They don’t want Slash, they want Izzy. He’s only the means to an end. They have to keep him alive for that.”

“You know very well what people can do to you while keeping you alive.”

“Yeah, but they won’t. It’s not like it is with you and me. They don’t care about breaking him, he’s just something Izzy is supposed to pick up. They won’t hurt him. Not if he’s smart. And he is. Smart, I mean.”

“Letter,” Axl said. He didn’t want to think about what anybody might be doing to Slash, especially not if his wellbeing depended on being ‘smart’. There was nothing he could change about it and so he would do what he could do: write a stupid letter to Duff’s idiotic family. 

_‘Hi Mom, hi folks’_ , he wrote, just as Duff had. _'You can cut out the bullshit and just say what you want to say. Izzy (that’s my master for you) is not the easiest to deal with, but neither is he one to crack the whip over my back. He also promised to not read along and he won’t. He’s just that type of weird slave owner. That doesn’t keep him from being an anal-retentive jerk who writes long winded lists about what we are and aren’t allowed to eat, and time and again he forces Axl, my dear and awesome fellow slave, to clean the toilets for no apparent reason.’_

“How’s that?” Axl asked. 

“Hm,” Duff made. “He forces you to clean the toilets because somebody has to clean them.”

“And why does that have to be always me? When’s the last time he made you do something disgusting?”

“I had to repair the waste disposal system,” Duff stated. “Last week. Because some idiot flushed a bandana down the garbage chopper and it got tangled.”

That was true, Axl had to admit. But he hadn’t just ‘flushed it down’. It had fallen into the funnel and he had just hoped it would make it through. Sadly, their garbage system was as old as the ship and tended to fail spectacularly if not pampered like a newborn baby. 

“You could always write that,” he suggested. “That would be showing them how life really is here and not ‘I’m learning spaceship mechanics.’”

“But I am learning that. And it’s important because I never got the chance to really learn anything. And if I can learn it, even as a slave, then my siblings can learn something, too. And they should because it so sucks to never be allowed to do anything, just because of how you were born.”

“Yeah?” Axl said. “I wouldn’t know. You’ve really got to tell me more about that. OK, how about this: _‘Being a slave may not have been my main goal in life, but it could be worse. Izzy may be a bastard, but he’s a decent one. If only he were less heavy handed with the food list.’_

“What’s your obsession with the food lists?” Duff asked, sounding a bit exasperated. “We get so much to eat.”

“It’s just fun baiting him with it,” Axl said. “OK, I take out the food part. You know, you could write some about us. Slash and me, I mean. So that they know who is living with you and a bit about how your life is going here.”

In the end they rewrote the letter at least a dozen times and it still sounded totally generic. Letters in books were always heartfelt and full of emotions, but whenever he tried to add something like that, Duff thought he was making fun of him again. Which he wasn't. Duff simply had no idea about how to write awesome, deep-meaning letters. 

_‘Dear Mom, dear folks,_

_We’re still in port, so I got your message right away._

_I should have made it clear before, but you can write openly. Izzy (my master) promised to not read the messages, and if he says he won’t, then he won’t. He may be a bastard, but he’s a decent one. Apart from Izzy there’s Axl (also a slave) and Slash (the mechanic I work with). And that’s all. It’s just a small ship, but we run cargo all over the galaxy. Although there’s always a lot of work to do, life is not bad at all. Being such a small crew means, we all have to look out for each other and that’s what we’re doing._

_I don’t know when I will be able to write again because things are a bit hectic at the moment, but I will. You can all stop worrying now. Really. I’m happy where I am. Circumstances might not be ideal, but I get to see the world, just like I have always dreamed about._

_Love, Duff. (Axl says to send his regards because he helped me write this letter. He’s better at stuff like that than I am)._

“He also knows words that have more than two syllables, so all of those are his,” Axl said. “OK, let’s send it off.”

“We can’t!” Duff yelped, when Axl had hit send “Fuck, Axl, this is Izzy’s account!” 

“He told us to use it, so stop worrying so much.”

“He told us to watch it, not send messages.”

“Then he should watch it himself,” Axl said. “Because this is boring as shit and … oh, there’s another one.”

“That’s for the advertisement,” Duff exclaimed and this time he opened it without any qualms. 

‘Mechanic looking for employment,’ it read. ‘Good looking, curly headed, sadly not unattached at the moment. Might change for the right price.”

“There’s an address,” Axl said, but Duff was already at the intercom and called Izzy. He was there so fast that he couldn’t have been unearthing nuclear weapons in the belly of the ship. 

“Right,” Izzy said, when he had read the message. “Looks like I’ve got a meeting.”

“We,” Axl said. “You’re not going on your own.”

“I can’t take care of you two in addition,” Izzy replied. “You’ll stay.”

“No,” Duff said and Axl cast him a surprised look. Duff never contradicted Izzy. He might now and then stand up to Slash, but never to Izzy. “You don’t have to take care of us. We do it like this: you switch off the blasted radius tracker. If somebody notices, you just forgot and I guess it will be a fine and nothing worse. And then we can be decent backup.”

“Duff, I …”

“You’re not going on your own,” Duff repeated. “Forget it. You’d have to shackle me to the fucking slave docks, to keep me from going.” 

“I might just do that,” Izzy threatened. 

“You mean you can try,” Duff said and stood to his full height. 

Izzy smiled a little, but schooled his features back to neutral almost instantly. 

“Ok,” he said, much to Axl’s surprise. He had expected twenty minutes of heated discussions at a minimum. “Do me at least a favour and keep an eye on each other. I have no idea what we’re dealing with.”

+++

Slash stared out of the window, watching the snow fall. He had tried to get some sleep, but had been unable to. His shoulders hurt like a bitch, his back was tense and he was itching all over. He needed a shower, fuck, he needed the loo but when he had hinted at having to pee, Aino had just stuffed his dick into a bottle. He hadn’t been able to, after that. 

Later another man had joined them. He was dark, had a bruise on his cheek, didn’t talk and strangely enough, he looked a little like Izzy. Which brought him back to wondering about the mess he was in. If this really wasn’t about him, then it was about Izzy and having somebody with a certain resemblance in the same room could not be a coincidence. Fucking space gipsy and his fucking secrecy. If he knew what kind of beef Izzy had with his family, he might know what he was dealing with. 

Aino hadn’t slept either. She had been busy with her screen the whole night, but it was early morning, when she finally became agitated. 

“Here we go,” she said. “You’re lucky, pretty boy, somebody wants you back.”

She stood up and pushed the gun into the back of her pants. Then she pulled a jacket over it, whispered some instructions to the new man and left. 

Slash breathed a sigh of relief. Izzy had reacted to whatever bullshit she was trying to pull and Izzy would get him out of here. At least Slash hoped he would. One never knew with Izzy. He might just cut his losses and look for a new mechanic. Axl was good enough to tie him over until he found one. 

He gave himself a mental slap, not for being unfair, but for pulling himself down. Izzy had reacted, which meant he was not just leaving. If it was really Izzy. She could just as well sell him to some other bounty hunter, one who knew how to take him off planet without involving the authorities, for example. 

Nothing he could do to change it, at least not now, he told himself. In an attempt to take the strain of his shoulders, he pushed his back once more against the headboard. Couldn’t they tie his hands in a different position, just to give his aching joints a break? Lying on his belly, for example? And to add insult to injury, now he really needed to pee. 

An hour or so later, while the sun had made feeble attempts to get through the grey sky, Aino was back. 

“He confirmed.” She tossed a paper bag onto the table. “I told him in an hour. Enough time for a quick breakfast.” She looked Slash over. “Need the bottle?” 

Slash wanted to say ‘no’, he really wanted to, but he had the suspicion she would just let him sit in his own mess if he pushed it too far. She was just the type. And so, he relented to one of the most humiliating procedures of his life. He still didn’t get a blanket afterwards, but she let him sip coffee from a take away cup and fed him a protein bar. 

“I suppose you need some calories after last night,” she said lightly while she let him take one bite after the other. “The way you have burned yourself out.” She brushed a strand of hair out of his face. “You really are pretty, you know? We need to repeat this some time.”

From minute to minute Slash’s need to strangle her grew. At least his plight should be coming to an end, soon. Another hour. He could manage another hour. 

It took almost two hours and Slash started to wonder if Izzy was maybe just holding out on her while making a quick getaway. When the intercom finally beeped, he sighed in relief. 

“Always has to do things his way,” she muttered, confirming once more that she and Izzy were old acquaintances of some type. She could just as well be a relative, Slash thought, same dark eyes and dark hair. Same fucking attitude. 

“Jari?” She jerked her head into his direction and the man obediently left the room to do … whatever. 

Aino took out her gun and settled behind Slash on the bed. 

“No nonsense,” she said. “I might need you alive, but you don’t need your kneecaps for my purposes, OK?”

Slash nodded. If she was really related to Izzy, she would not shy away from putting a couple of bullets into non vital body parts. 

Jari had left the door open behind himself and Slash heard his steps down on the rattling staircase. The gate opened, loud and screeching, and then he heard a scream and some scuffling. The staircase rattled again, there was more screaming and more … was that Axl spewing obscenities all over the place …, and Izzy barged in through the door.

Slash thought he looked beautiful, stringy haired, sleep deprived and dressed in his usual conglomerate of second hand clothes, this time with even less care to make anything match. 

Izzy stopped cold, his face shifting from grim determination to utter confusion. 

“Aino!” he said. “What the fuck?”

“Hi, Jeff,” she replied sweetly, levelling the gun at Slash’s head. 

The yelling had stopped and Duff and Axl stumbled in, both of them a little out of breath. 

“Tied him up,” Axl sputtered. His knuckles were bleeding, Slash noticed and Duff was barely visible behind his chaotic hair. 

Izzy’s gaze shifted from Aino to Slash, taking in his state of debauched nakedness with agonizing attention to detail. Slash wondered if getting rescued was really worth this embarrassment. 

“Slash,” Izzy said, shaking his head in disappointment. “Did you really have to fuck my wife?”

“Your … wife,” Slash brought out. He stared at Aino, then at Izzy, then at Duff and Axl who were equally speechless. 

“Kind of,” Aino said. “He left me standing at the altar.”

“Ah, no, that’s not fair,” Izzy protested. “We got through the ceremony just fine. All things considered we’re married.”

“True,” Aino conceded. “In fact, he left me right before the wedding night. I was sitting on the bed in this ugly dress and counted the ugly flowers on the ugly comforter while my dear husband flew out into space.”

Izzy shrugged. “I had to wait until everybody was drunk enough to not notice.”

“I did notice,” Aino countered. “And I had drunk myself almost stupid in preparation for the big moment.”

“Now I feel insulted.” Izzy leaned against the doorframe. “So what? You kidnapped my mechanic to rehash old memories? Don’t tell me you came all the way just to get me back.”

Aino laughed. “Still the same overblown ego, huh, Jeff? In the long run you did me a favour.” 

Slash watched from one to the other in utter consternation. 

“Then do me a favour, too, and give me my mechanic. I’m on a pretty tight schedule and you’re messing up things.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“Cut out the bullshit Aino.” Izzy stepped into the apartment and approached the bed. He sat down on Slash’s other side, not caring about the gun at all. “What do you want? The bounty?”

“I need a ship,” she said. 

Izzy shrugged. “Go and buy one.”

“You cut out the bullshit, Jeffrey. I need a ship and I need it fast. You owe me one and you will help me get a few passengers off this planet.”

“Why should I? Because you’re pointing a gun at my mechanic? You won’t shoot.”

“Because I’ll hand him over to the authorities if you don’t.”

Izzy’s face gave nothing away. If anything, he looked bored. 

“You know, I don’t care for being pushed and that’s what you’re trying here.”

“Yeah, that hasn’t changed either, has it? Look, I make this easy for you. I know you’re now calculating if you really need Slash here or if you can do without him. But if you decide on the latter, I’ll make sure you’ll get caught up in the whole mess by association.”

“Association of what?” Izzy asked, feigning innocence. “I hired a mechanic. Turned out he faked his papers. Shit like that happens all the time, how is it my fault?”

“I have enough on you to cast serious doubt on your ignorance. Enough to have you spend some time in prison, to have your licence revoked, your ship and your slaves confiscated. I’ve checked your background, Jeff, in fact, I had an eye on you all this time. You started out just as I expected you would, but then, all of a sudden, you grew respectable. Almost all legal business now, isn’t it? I will destroy your fucking existence. You’ll be back to shady transactions with warlords and contraband dealers, you can start at zero again. Or you do me a tiny favour and get a few passengers off this planet.”

“You did what?” he asked. “Kept track of what I was doing? Why would you do that?”

“Boredom?” Aino said. “Hurt pride? Hoping it would come in handy one day? Take your pick.”

“OK.” Izzy stared at the wall for a moment. “About … ten steps back. Why are you even here and not at home?”

“Did you really think I would stay? After you scorned me like that? Poor Aino, unable to make her husband stay for his freaking wedding night. You left, I thought I’d do the same. But we don’t have time for that. I’m offering you a deal. Take it or leave it. I can call the port guard right now.”

She looked over at Duff and Axl, who stood like salt pillars at the door and looked exactly like Slash felt. Steamrollered. 

“Sorry about your face, kid,” Aino said and Slash noticed that Duff looked beaten up. It hadn’t been so noticeable under all his hair, but now he had pushed it back behind his ears. “Really, that was not my intention.”

Duff didn’t reply, just looked at her from expressionless eyes. 

“I don’t care about your intentions,” Izzy spat. “I care about what you’re doing. Having Duff beaten up, kidnapping Slash, blackmailing me. And you really want me to do you a favour?”

“I laid it out to you, Jeff. Yes or no.”

Izzy sat back. Slash assumed that he couldn’t really say ‘no’, but giving in was not something Izzy did easily. 

“I’m not doing this for free,” he conceded. 

“Of course not.” Aino inclined her head. “State your price.”

“How many?”

“Two, plus me and Jari.”

“No way!” Izzy laughed. “You’re not setting foot onto my ship. And Jari? Maybe, if I can keep him in a container and feed him by throwing in scraps through a funnel.”

“Two passengers, me, and Jari,” Aino repeated. “I don’t care where you keep him, but he has to come. He’ll blow everything if we leave him behind.”

“There’s no ‘we’,” Izzy gave back. “And where to anyway?”

“I’ll give you the destination once we’re onboard.”

“You’ll give me the destination now or there won’t be any ‘onboard’.”

Aino bit her lip. 

“That bad, huh? I’m just doubling my price in my head.”

“Goral.”

“Goral!” Izzy sputtered. “You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“It’s possible.” Aino sat up straighter. 

“No, it isn’t. Because my own fucking clan is controlling the border.”

“I know.”

Izzy threw up his hands. “Then you know it’s not possible for me. Get somebody else.”

“I have a plan!”

“Sure!” Izzy rolled his eyes. “A plan.”

“Look.” For the first time she lowered the gun an inch. “I’ll tell you all about it, but we don’t have the time. Get us onboard, get us out. That’s all I’m asking for now. If you absolutely can’t do Goral, then I’ll accept a ‘no’.”

Izzy stared at her for a moment.

“That desperate?”

“Yes.” She let the gun sink into her lap. “Do you think I would even talk to you if I weren’t?”

Izzy kept staring. Then, after about half an eternity, he inclined his head an inch. 

“State your price, Jeff.”

The sum Izzy stated was outrageous and Slash expected Aino to tell him so, but she just nodded. 

“And as you’re fucking up my plans, I want a drum kit?”

“A what?” Aino and Slash asked in unison. 

“A drum kit. And no cheap shit, get a decent one. And a bass guitar.”

Aino sighed. “Why do you always have to make my life so difficult? Where should I even get one this fast?”

“Not my problem.” 

“Jeff!”

“It’s non-negotiable.”

“Sure,” she sighed and Slash started to wonder how desperate she really was. 

“One more question,” Izzy said, his whole expression turning even darker. “I get why you took Slash. What did you want with Duff?”

Aino smirked. “Remember Sirpa?”

“What about her? She never liked you much. Has bitten you a couple of times, if I remember correctly.”

“Your Granny told me this story. How your whole extended family spent another three days in port because little Jeffrey had run away in search for his missing dog and couldn’t be found. You grow awfully attached to your pets. When I saw you send the boy off all on his own, I just thought, another bargaining chip might be nice.”

“Try something like that again, and I’ll kill you,” Izzy said, menace dripping from every word. Slash believed him. “Trust me, I don’t grow as attached to my wives as I do to my dogs.”

She nodded briefly in acknowledgement, but didn’t seem intimidated. Well, she was talking to her husband, after all. 

“Now, how do we get those passengers onboard? I assume they won’t just walk through customs? 

“Cargo containers. Shielded. Will appear empty to the scanners and with just one person the weight difference doesn’t matter. I already applied for permission in your name, so you can just take them onboard.”

“When?”

“Late afternoon, when the rush is biggest. Best chance that nobody will look inside. I’ll be there when they arrive.”

Izzy nodded. “Keys.” He held out her hand and she tossed them into his direction. Izzy unlocked the first of Slash’s shackles and dropped the keys into his lap. “Get dressed.”

Slash was quick to follow that order. Being the only one naked in a room full of dressed and armed people got old pretty fast. 

“See you this evening.” Izzy turned his back on her and headed for the door, leaving it to Slash to follow him.

“I have your word, Jeff?” Aino asked after him. 

Izzy granted her a last look. “You do.”

On the one hand Slash was glad they were leaving, on the other hand there were about a million open questions he wanted to ask. Duff looked absolutely flabbergasted and even Axl remained silent on their way down. At the foot of the staircase, Slash stopped and stared at Jari, wrapped in about a mile of rope and hanging upside down from the railing. 

“It was nice to catch up, cousin,” Izzy said and patted him on the head. 

Then they left the building and Slash exhaled in relief. But his reprieve didn’t last long.

“I’m going to fuck you with a barbed wire dildo, Slash!” Izzy snarled as soon as they were outside. 

“Ah yeah?” Slash spat back. “It’s your fucking family, so how is it all my fault, huh?”

“Because you can’t keep it in your fucking pants! Who even gets shackled to the fucking headboard, it’s … it’s a fucking disgrace.”

“Being chased by your wife through half the universe is a disgrace,” Slash gave back. His dignity had suffered enough, he would not take the blame for the whole mess. 

“Guys, can’t this wait until later?” Duff asked. “I think …” He pointed at a group of people who had started to stare at them. 

“Right,” Izzy conceded, forcefully calming himself down. “We need to get back, sort out the rest of the deliveries and make sure we’re ready for take-off this evening. Fuck, this so fucks up everything.”

“We’re not really doing that, are we?” Axl asked while they were marching through a foot of snow on the sidewalk. “I mean, we could just run right away. Be gone for good by evening.”

“I gave her my word,” Izzy said. “Means we can’t.”

“Really?” Slash asked surprised. “I never noticed that you’re so hung up on honesty.” 

“This is different,” Izzy replied, not offended. He probably knew he was a conniving bastard. He was probably proud about it. “This is … with my people, you give your word, you keep it.”

“You left her standing at the altar,” Axl said. “Or waiting in your wedding bed or whatever.”  
“Yeah, that doesn’t count.” 

Typical Izzy logic, Slash thought. You could get back on a marriage promise, but you had to smuggle people off planet once you had given your word while somebody pointed a gun at your head. 

They reached the next transport station and piled up into a cubicle. 

“I know this is fucked up, chief,” Slash said “But … shit, care to give a few more details? Just so we know what we’re dealing with?”

Izzy sighed. He didn’t even look angry anymore, just tired. 

“I’m a space gipsy, Slash.”

Slash rolled his eyes. “Got that message when we met, man. And when all this shit went down even before I joined you, then you were awfully young to get married. That the reason you got cold feet?”

“I was nineteen. Aino was a year younger. And it wasn’t my idea. Wasn’t hers either.” Izzy leant back in his seat. “That’s not how it’s done for us. You don’t get to choose somebody. Your genetic code is entered into the data base and then you’ll get matched with somebody who might be genetically different enough to still produce healthy children. And you do that as soon as you come of age, to make sure you get as many chances at producing a viable zygote as possible. Because it’s unlikely you’ll manage more than one. If at all.”

“Like … a breeding program?” Axl asked. 

“Not like,” Izzy replied. “It is a breeding program. Infertility is rampant and we had far too many disabled or mentally deficient children to just keep going. Look at Jari. Prime example of what happens when you don’t care enough about the gene pool. Could all be solved by just marrying outside the community, of course, but that isn’t done. Aino and me … we were a really good match, genetically. Hopes had been rising on both our parents’ side since we were about twelve or so. We were so compatible, we might even have managed more than one child. And my old man is pretty high on the social ladder, so grandchildren were big on his agenda. With just one son himself, well, he made sure I knew what was expected.”

“You mean, that’s the reason why you fell out with your family? 

“My Dad knew I didn’t want to marry her, so from the day he became serious about it, I had a bodyguard shadowing me all the fucking time. I had to wait until after the wedding to leave or I would have run before. The celebrations are traditionally … uhm … excessive. Getting out of the backdoor after loudly announcing my intentions to now go and shag my beautiful wife was easy.”

“Wow.” Slash fiddled a rubber band out of his pocket and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. “And I thought my love life was complicated.” 

Izzy cast him a nasty look at that. 

“Anyway, that’s why I can’t go back. I went against my clan. I embarrassed them in front of Aino’s clan. I disobeyed my father and, which is more important, a high-ranking clan member. I disgraced him, my family, everybody. I fucked up Aino’s life because according to our laws we are still married, and she can’t just go on and be matched with somebody else, which also takes her out of the gene pool, and … there are probably about half a million other fucked up consequences nobody needs, but which have to be all kept in place just because it’s ‘tradition’. And now she wants me to take her to Goral. The border to Goral is under control of my people.”

“What will happen if they get you?” Duff asked. 

Izzy blew air through his lips. “They will probably hand me over to Aino’s clan. To pay off my debts to them. I don’t think they’ll kill me right away, but won’t be nice either. Convict labour is the most likely outcome.”

“Will you get a collar?” Axl asked and Izzy smacked his hand backwards so fast, Axl didn’t manage to escape the slap. 

“Ouch,” he muttered. “Don’t make that a habit.”

“So… we’re not doing that, right?” Duff threw in. “Whatever plan she comes up with, we won’t do that?”

“No,” Izzy replied. “There’s no way we’re going anywhere near Goral.” 

“Goral is uncontrolled territory,” Slash said. “If she wants to bring somebody there that would mean…”

“Yep,” Izzy agreed. “High profile. So high profile it’s burning under her fingernails.”

“And the payment…”

“Again, yep. Reeks of pure desperation.”

“You have to be able to come up with that amount of money,” Slash added. “It sounds … dunno… political, maybe?.”

Izzy shrugged, his expression grim. Izzy didn’t like getting involved in other people’s schemes and if he couldn’t avoid it this time, they were all due for some spectacular detonation.

“We’ll take them off planet, drop them at the next opportunity, and that’s it,” he said. “And don’t sleep with her again, Slash.”

“Ehm, no worries there, chief, I won’t.”

“Yeah, be careful. You’re angry at her now, but she can be persuasive. She knows what she wants and she takes it.”

Axl snorted. “Sounds like somebody I know. Maybe you would have made a good match after all.” He barely escaped another slap. 

+++

They worked like mad for the few hours they had left. To Slash’s relief, the biggest part of the cargo had already been stored the evening before, and Axl and Duff were able to take care of the rest. 

Slash and Izzy were running maintenance on the engine in such a haste that they kept burning and bruising themselves like never before. In between grunts and yells and curses Slash got the rest of what had happened the day before. 

Yes, he had fucked up, caught by his gullibility and the certain arrogant thinking that bounty hunters wouldn’t have tits like that. He was still amazed that Izzy had run just before the wedding night. Slash was reasonably sure he himself would have waited until after. 

“Is she really as dangerous as she likes to pretend?”

Izzy shrugged. “Don’t underestimate her. I ran a quick search on her during our way back. She was not only after you, she’s been working as a bounty hunter ever since she left. Together with Jari, it seems. And she was successful. Why she would drag him along, I have no idea, but they’re a team. I mean, yes, he had a crush on her, so I get why he’s doing it, but … who would take up with Jari of all people?”

“You’re taking up with Axl,” Slash reminded him. “Can’t be worse.”

“Axl isn’t stupid. Jari is. Stupidity is worse than uncontrollable rages. Anyway, just saying, be careful around her. And don’t fuck her again.”

“You already said that, Izzy. I’m not that much of a masochist. One might think you were jealous.”

Izzy glared at him before he returned to his job. 

“I’m not jealous. But you fell for her, hook, line and sinker and she … fuck, Slash, she can be awesome. I liked her, OK? She’s cool, she’s clever, you ask her to do something incredibly stupid with you and she’s all game. I know her since we were twelve and we got into scrapes all the time. I was looking forward each time she would come over to spend some months with our clan. By then we didn’t care about what it really meant. We were set up to ‘get to know each other’ and they were already easing her into my family. And, yes, we knew we were expected to marry, but it was all so far away. We were just best friends and were having fun.”

“Then why didn’t you marry her?” Slash asked, amazed at the revelation. “I mean, you gave up everything you had. You said it yourself, you destroyed both your lives.”

“Because I hate being dictated to.” Izzy tightened a screw with far more vigour than was necessary. “Why do you think I kept building my own ship since I was a kid? My Dad thought it was a keen interest in mechanics, one he supported whole-heartedly for a change, but I knew I would have to make an escape eventually. I started the day after my parents told me, they had found a match for me. Before I even knew Aino at all.”

“Wow,” Slash said. He had known Izzy was a stubborn bastard, but this was taking it a bit far, in his opinion. “By the way, that dog story was awfully cute. Is it true?”

“Don’t even start,” Izzy muttered. “Yes, it’s true. I was fucking nine, OK? And she was mine. And I wouldn’t leave without her. Just like I wouldn’t leave without you, the way I should have, asshole.”

“Did you find her?” he couldn’t help asking, because he really wanted to know. 

“Yes, I did,” Izzy forced out. “And I got my ass whacked like woah.” 

Slash grinned, but was smart enough to not let Izzy see it. 

“What breed of dog was she?” he asked, unable to get the picture of little Izzy and his puppy out of his mind. 

“Oh, she incorporated quite a lot of breeds,” he replied. “Total mongrel. Found her next to a dumpster and took her home. Got a whacking for that, too, by the way. But I was allowed to keep her. She was a bit of a beast sometimes. If she liked you, she was awesome, but if not… And ‘if not’ was her usual modus operandi.”

“You do know there’s a pattern here somewhere, don’t you?” Slash asked, trying to stop himself from laughing too loud. 

“Had nothing to do with compassion,” Izzy replied, but he was grinning, too. “I just always wanted a dog.”

“Yeah, just like you always wanted an assemblee.”

Later Axl and Duff joined them in the engine room. Axl was experienced enough to take on jobs of his own and Duff was tasked with running back and forth between them, fetching stuff, adding a hand where needed and keeping them from murdering each other when it turned out, they wouldn’t manage half of what Izzy had planned for this stop. 

When Aino and Jari appeared at the hatch, Izzy was in killing mood. 

“Where’s the parcel?” he asked without looking at either. 

“Custom,” Aino said. “Should be here any minute.”

Slash stepped up behind him, wiping oil and sweat out of his eyes. Axl and Izzy looked just as grimy and tired as he felt. He got the feeling that neither of them had slept much last night. Duff, helpful as always, handed them a bottle of water and they took turns emptying it in thirsty gulps. 

Izzy may be bad tempered, but Duff had looked spooked ever since their passenger had arrived. He was almost as silent as on his first days, keeping to the back, not drawing attention to himself, waiting for the other shoe to drop. If this whole kidnapping and blackmailing issue wasn’t enough to make him angry, watching Duff retreat into his shell did the trick. 

The crates arrived shortly after and Izzy made no attempts to handle them with any type of care. He had stacked the processed food supplies with more love than he now bestowed on his wrapped-up passengers. 

The first crate they opened didn’t reveal any persons, but the ominous drum kit and the bass guitar, Izzy had insisted on. Duff squeaked in delight and suddenly Slash understood what this was all about. Soup pots. Didn’t explain the bass guitar, but maybe Duff was going to expand on his abilities. For a moment Duff forgot all slave like behaviour and flung his arms around Izzy’s neck. 

“Storage room three,” Izzy said with a brief pat on the back of his head. 

“All that because of a broken nose,” Axl said next to Slash. “You broke my nose twice and I never got any presents out of it.”

“That’s because you deserved it each time it happened,” Slash replied. 

Aino had watched the little scene with interest, apparently filing it away for later use. 

Jari opened the second crate, which housed a young man. He looked a little sick when he crawled out and briefly scanned his surrounding, before he lowered his head and stood to the side. Slash wouldn’t have needed to see the collar to know what they were dealing with. 

He looked curiously at the last crate, because no slave was important enough to warrant such a rescue expedition. And no slave would be able to pay such an outrageous sum either. The lid was pried off and a woman climbed out. Just like everybody else she was dressed in the typical spacer outfit, a bit bulgy, practical, dark coloured. She brushed her hair back and looked up and Slash almost fell backwards. 

“Lis,” he said. “Fucking hell.” 

\- End of Part II -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end of Part II. 
> 
> I wanted to thank you guys for all your comments. It is awesome how you are all thinking about the storyline and come up with ideas about what might happen, etc. That's a huge incentive for me, to know that this fic stays a bit with you beyond just reading and then forgetting about it. 
> 
> Also, I hit a bit of a roadblock when I tried to start on the final part (Part V), and knowing that I could not, under no circumstances, leave this fic unfinished, because I know how disappointing it is when you really enjoyed some fic which is then just abandonden, was a huge incentive for me to get over the hangup.


	22. Stuffed Animals

Part III 

Izzy was ready to set his ship on fire. When exactly had he signed up to live inside a soap opera? First his almost wife showed up and now Lis, the long-lost love of Slash’s life, climbed out of a box for extra dramatic entry. Somebody really had to rewrite this script. 

Slash took one long look at her and then he turned around on his heel and left. 

“Slash!” Lis managed, before he was gone. 

She looked after him, as if she planned to just follow, but then thought the better of it. Probably deciding that her priorities should lie with making nice with the captain, she turned into Izzy’s direction and approached him. She opened her mouth, to introduce herself or for any other inane niceties, but Izzy didn’t care for civilities at the best of times and this wasn’t one of those. 

“Right,” he said and turned his back on her. “Guess we’re ready for take-off.”

He looked from one person to another and realized, that he had a problem. Slash was gone and not likely to come back any time soon. Duff was doing the kicked puppy expression, caused by the addition of more free people to the current population of the XXG, when he had only just learned to deal with those that were already there. 

Without Slash he needed Axl on the bridge to man the power control. That left zero people to deal with the passengers. Maybe he could just lock them back into the containers until they were well out of orbit, but he had a dim feeling that it wouldn’t go over well. 

“Duff,” he said, coming to a decision. “Take everybody to the kitchen and make sure they stay there. Anybody giving you trouble, call me.” 

As expected, his reply was a slightly panicked look, but he couldn’t help it. Izzy decided that Duff’s period of grace was over now and for good. Whatever hang ups about his status he had, he needed to get over them. 

Yes, he was a slave, yes, technically he couldn’t order any of these people around, but first and foremost, he was a member of Izzy’s crew, and as such above each and every passenger who might ever set food onboard his ship. Time for him to learn that and act accordingly. 

“Anybody better not give anybody any trouble,” he said into Aino’s direction. 

She would understand, at least partly. They had grown up under the same customs and traditions. If a captain decided within his own realm to put a slave in charge of a free person, it had to be accepted. Just like everything he decided had to be accepted. 

Jari would likely give him a bit of trouble just out of principle. He didn’t have enough mental range to feel superior to pretty much anybody, so putting slaves into their places had always been a bit of a hobby for him. As for the two passengers, he supposed they would at least for now follow Aino’s lead. Duff should be able to deal. 

“Axl?” 

Axl had followed the unfolding scene with interest. He had a keen sense for drama and while he had no idea what exactly was going on, he certainly realized it would be interesting. For a change he followed without fault and even kept silent until they were out of the room.

There was some whispering behind him and then he heard Aino’s exasperated voice.

“Yes,” she said. “That’s exactly how I remember him.” 

Up on the bridge, while booting the system, Axl finally talked. “Care to explain?”

“Lis is Slash’s ex.”

Izzy gave him a quick rundown on what he knew. It wasn’t really his place to talk about it, but, yeah, tough shit. Slash wouldn’t come out of his cabin until he had downed enough high voltage liquor to numb his emotions, and Axl needed to know. Duff needed to know, too, he realized. It was time they all came clean about the buried corpses of their past. Those bastards just refused to stay underground. 

“Wow,” Axl said while he coaxed the engine to life. “That’s going to be an interesting journey.”

Izzy agreed wholeheartedly. 

“What are we gonna do?”

“What I was planning all along,” Izzy replied while he gently moved his ship out of dock. It would be a perfect manoeuvre, he promised himself. No way was he giving Aino and Jari any satisfaction by botching up. “Deliver cargo. They can hop off any port we touch, I don’t care. I’m not going to change my route for them.”

Axl hummed something under his breath. 

“What was that?” Izzy pushed the XXG softly into the waiting line. 

“I said, what about Slash?”

Izzy shrugged. “He will probably retreat to the engine room for good. We can put up a cot for him.”

Axl didn’t laugh. He was really worried, Izzy noticed, and reminded himself that Axl didn’t deal well with change. Having four strangers onboard would not be easy for him. Oh well, pity, it wouldn’t be easy for any of them. 

They managed the getaway with aplomb, and Izzy switched back to auto pilot. He was itching to check on the situation downstairs. At least he hadn’t heard from Duff yet, so hopefully everything was under control. 

He briefly thought about assigning the bridge to Axl, but the bridge was too sensitive to risk. It was not likely that Axl should lose it all of a sudden, but there were two areas where they wouldn’t leave him alone on principle, the bridge and the main engine room. 

“Come,” he said. “Time for … ugh … lunch?” It was rather time for dinner, but nobody would have bothered to cook. He should have added take away to his list of demands.

The kitchen was … cramped. The XXG was not laid out for so many people. When they were all four in the kitchen, they already had to move around each other. Add another four and it was overflowing. At least Duff had managed to keep order. Everybody was sitting and nursing cups of tea while Duff had started dinner.

“What we’re having?” Izzy asked, resting his chin on his shoulder to look into the pot. 

Duff lifted his head and wiped his hair back. “Soup,” he said, his voice edgy. “With whatever processed instant shit I can find on the shelves.”

“Is there still tea left?”

“Over there,” Duff pointed at the pot. “I made about a galleon. Help yourself.”

Izzy filled two mugs and handed one to Axl. Then he leaned against the counter and gave his passengers a more thorough look than he had bothered before. 

“Captain,” Lis, apparently not used to being ignored, stood up. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce ourselves, yet. I’m …”

“I know your name,” Izzy interrupted her. “I also know that you and you,” he pointed first at Lis and then at Aino, “set Slash up together. So, we don’t have to pretend that we’re good friends here. We’re not. We have to deal with each other for the time being, but that’s all. Absolutely no need for polite conversation.”

He took a sip while Lis plopped back down onto the bench and everybody reassumed staring into their tea. 

“What’s your name?” Izzy asked the slave after a while. 

“This is…,” Lis started, but Izzy interrupted her again. 

“I asked him. I guess he has a tongue and can talk.”

“Mikah, sir,” he said without looking up. 

“Ok, Jeff,” Jari suddenly said. “This can’t go on.”

“It’s ‘Captain’ for you,” Izzy said sweetly. “And for you,” he pointed at Lis. “And for you,” he looked at Aino. “Nah, you can call me Jeff. We are married after all. Would make for strange pillow talk otherwhile.”

Aino rolled her eyes. 

“You,” Izzy said and pointed at Mikah. “Can call me Izzy. Everybody does.”

Axl snorted. “Bit complicated, don’t you think?” he said. “Can you keep all that apart by sheer mind power, or do you need a spreadsheet? I can set one up in the system.”

Izzy grinned. Yes, he was being petty. Sue him. 

“Dinner’s done,” Duff suddenly said and slammed the lid onto the pot. “Unless you need to clarify more … uhm … naming conventions before we eat.”

“Nope, all good for now,” Izzy replied. 

“Slash?” Duff asked. “I could bring him…,”

“Nope,” Izzy said. 

Yes, they were all behaving like kindergarteners, but Slash couldn’t hide forever and the longer he did, the more difficult it would become to draw him out. He activated the intercom. 

“Slash? Food. Move your ass over, we have … you know … stuff to discuss.”

He killed the connection before Slash had time to reply. He would come. Not immediately, but he would. 

In the meanwhile, Duff had put a stack of plates in the middle of the table and tossed the spoons right after it. No lovingly cooked meal tonight. 

There was some shuffling when people moved around to make room for more people at the small table and just when they had all found somewhere to sit, Slash entered. Without looking at anybody, he took the last halfway free piece of bench next to Axl. Duff put the pot into the middle of the table and for a while it was blessedly quiet. The soup was sub-standard for Duff’s skills, but everybody was hungry and so they just ate. 

“Fuck, we need to do this in shifts,” Izzy said when he was for the fifth time hit by one of Duff’s bony knees under the table. 

“Sorry,” Duff muttered. 

“Easy enough,” Jari said. 

Izzy knew what was coming, the slowly rising belligerence he’d known all his life. Jari was five years older than him and he had always been one to hit on the smaller kids. This was no different. First, Duff had refused to be kidnapped, and then Axl had beaten him up and hung him from the banister. It was nothing he would forgive easily, and definitely not while his face still sported the reminders of Axl’s knuckles. Two slaves had bested him. He wouldn’t let that slide. In fact, it would accompany them for the whole journey.

“People first, slaves afterwards. It’s how it’s normally done.”

Izzy felt Duff stiffen next to him. The tension radiating from Axl was sizzling like electricity through the air. Slowly he ate another mouthful of soup, then another. Then, with deliberate slowness, he put down his spoon and looked up. 

“I didn’t think I’d have to do this. I really thought at least you two were well versed regarding the customs of space. Looks like I was wrong.” 

He looked from one person to the next, making sure they were listening. To his satisfaction everybody had stopped eating, even his own men. 

“Rules! One: As we’ve already established, I’m the captain. My ship, my law. What I say is the final word. Always. Two: Slash is my second in command. If I’m not there, same goes for him. Three: If any of my crew, including Duff and Axl, tell you to do something, you do it. If they tell you not to do something, you don’t.”

Jari made moves to protest, but Izzy wasn’t having any of it. If he didn’t slam him down now, he would have to deal with this day in day out. 

“I’m not done yet,” he roared so loud that Duff flinched next to him. “If you have problems with anything they demand, you can bring it up with me, but you better not bother me with inane trivialities or I’ll get pissed faster than you can count to three. If you’re even able to get that far. I don’t care for this slave-no slave- bullshit. This is my crew and they’re doing a damned good job. You will fucking comply with them, got it? So, four: this isn’t a passenger ship. My men are busy and have no time for additional nursemaiding. There will be no – I repeat – NO service for anybody. This means you will all pull your weight. You eat, you do the dishes afterwards, you take a shit you clean the loo.”

“Yeah!” Axl muttered and Izzy cast him an annoyed glance. 

“Make yourself useful. Not sure how? Ask Axl, he knows what needs to be done. Five: you’re restricted to the domestic corridor. That’s non-negotiable. Six: Food. I did not plan on doubling the population and there was no time to stock up for this contingent. Means we have to ration what’s there. Duff is in charge of what can and can’t be eaten.”

“I am?” Duff asked. “Since when?”

“Since now. You write the food lists, starting today. Make sure we don’t run out and make notes of what we need at the next stop. Did I forget anything?”

“Where are we going to sleep?” Lis asked. “Everything else is clear and … reasonable I would say.”

“Oh yeah, that. Bit of a problem. We have exactly one cabin left. The rest of you will have to do with the slave quarters. Make it up among yourselves.”

“Wow, they are really getting some use, after all,” Axl said. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“You aren’t planning to stuff us into those …those … “ Jari started. 

“Cupboards,” Axl provided helpfully. 

“Oh God, I remember those,” Aino said. “Interstellaria was fond of them.” 

“Are they really cupboards?” Lis asked, looking a bit worried. 

“Comes close,” Izzy replied. “Just leave the doors open. As I said, no other space left here. And, Jari, no, my men won’t give up their rooms for you.” 

“They should, given what we pay you,” Jari shot back. 

“That’s danger allowance,” Izzy said lightly. “And I doubt any of that is coming out of your pocket.”

“I can bunk with Axl,” Slash suddenly said. 

“No, you can’t,” Axl replied. 

“Yes, I can, ‘cause you’re never sleeping anyway.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t need my room.”

“Come on man…,”

“Izzy!” Axl whined. “Say something.”

“Kids, settle that between yourselves,” Izzy retorted. “I’m done. You can resume eating.”

He finished his meal and pushed the plate back, still riding on a wave of adrenaline and determined to use it.

“Everybody back to work. There’s still a shitload of shit to do in the engine room. And we need to make sure all perishables are properly stored and, if I remember correctly, I started the main maintenance run on the system the day before yesterday and it should be done now. We need to at least have a look at what it spat out. So, everybody downstairs, I guess.”

Axl let his head drop onto the table and for once Izzy felt with his dramatics. They all needed rest, but nobody would get it any time soon. 

“We’ll take care of the clean-up,” Aino said and Izzy acknowledged her attempt to smooth things over with a nod. It wouldn’t earn her any brownie points. She was still top priority on his shit list. But it would give her a chance to hammer some sense into her part of the team. If she didn’t get Jari under control and fast, he would do it himself, and it wouldn’t be pretty. 

“If you really hand over your room,” Izzy whispered to Slash after they left the kitchen, “make sure you deactivate the computer system. I don’t want them anywhere near it and I wouldn’t bet any money on her not getting past the firewall.”

She could of course try to get in somewhere over the public terminals in the kitchen and the sitting room, but as those were in constant use, attempts at hacking them would be a lot more obvious than in a cabin nobody entered. 

+++

It was early morning when Izzy finally called it quits. He had released his crew a while ago, planning to follow immediately, but then he had gotten caught up with dozens of odds and ends, which took him longer than planned. He had just returned to his cabin, when he heard the familiar knock. Duff rarely used the intercom like everybody else did. 

“Open,” he said. “What’s up Duff? Problems? Why are you not asleep?” 

He hadn’t heard anything about the blasted sleeping arrangements anymore and hoped he wouldn’t have to assign beds to everybody. If he had to, he would stuff them all into the slave cupboards, including Duff, Slash and Axl. And he would lock them from the outside. 

“No.” Duff looked more like himself again, the spooked expression from earlier gone. “I, mean, no problems. I did sleep a bit, but I heard you come back and thought…”

Duff had been thrown for a loop twice in as many days, but he was good at bouncing back. He was freshly showered, Izzy noticed, his hair still sleep-tousled, while he himself hadn’t even managed to get out of his working clothes. 

“Then what?” Izzy pushed his hands into his pockets. All he wanted to do is go to bed, close his eyes and never wake up again. 

“I’m here to take care of you,” Duff replied, matter of fact. 

Izzy raised an eyebrow. “And that’s your job since … when?”

“Oh, quite some time now.” 

He came closer and put his hands onto Izzy’s shoulders, rubbing softly and … fuck, Izzy knew he should shake him off, but he was beat and it felt good. 

“You took care of me yesterday, when I was all whiny, and now it’s my turn.”

“Because I’m all whiny?” Izzy asked. 

He did feel whiny, if he was honest. Fuck, why could everybody be whiny when they felt like it and he had to always keep it together for the good of ship and crew? 

“Just exhausted, I suppose,” Duff replied. “You’re not good at being whiny.”

Izzy snorted. “So, now you’re gonna do what?”

“Whatever you need,” Duff said. “Look at you, it’s … ugh… even later than I thought. Everybody has gone to bed - Slash and Axl in the same cabin, I might add - and you’re covered in oil and grime. If whatever you were doing was really necessary, then let us help, and if not, then, fuck, it can wait until tomorrow. What good does it do you or us or the ship, if you run yourself ragged, huh?”

Izzy scowled at him. “Decisions about the workload are a bit above your paygrade, Duff.”

“I’m not making decision. I’m just having an informed opinion.” Duff’s hands moved upwards a bit, one cupped his neck while the other brushed softly over his jaw. 

“And your informed opinion prompts you to do what exactly?”

“I told you. I’ll take care of you.” Duff’s voice turned slightly seductive and he leaned in as if to kiss him, but stopped when Izzy didn’t make any moves to meet him. 

“OK.” Izzy lifted his arms. “Help yourself. I’m all yours. But no sex.”

“What?” Duff pulled back. “But…”

“Too easy.” Izzy didn’t know what had gotten into him. “And anyway, I don’t even think I’ll get it up tonight. Sorry, kid.

“You’ll never know,” Duff started again, but Izzy just shook his head and freed himself out of Duff’s grip. 

“Hands above the waist. If you can’t deal with that, go to bed.”

“You’re the boss,” Duff replied with a shrug, and then he did lean in and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Come on, let’s start with getting you clean. Water tanks are full, you can afford a shower.”

Duff grabbed him by his shoulders, turned him around and pushed him towards the bathroom. 

Izzy cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose you’re going to join me?” 

“How else am I supposed to get you clean?” Duff asked back without letting go. 

He could have replied that he was very well able to wash himself, but Izzy was the first to admit that he got slightly off on Duff’s bossier side. It was endearing somehow, like a puppy trying out its newfound ability to growl. 

It was, Izzy had to admit after the shower, indeed a relaxing experience. He hadn’t been aware that he had acquired a body servant in addition to a bed slave, but Duff had stripped him, gotten him all wet and soapy and then wet again and then he had sent him back to his bed to have his back done. 

“The skin is getting better,” Duff said, sitting astride his naked thighs and rubbing once more cream into the scars. “More supple.”

Izzy grunted his agreement into the pillow. The tenseness he had sometimes felt where different grafts bordered on each other wasn’t there anymore. It had never bothered him much, but this was better, he had to admit. Felt more like his own skin instead of like an artificial cover over raw flesh. 

Duff was holding up to his promise, keeping his touch light and soothing and utterly relaxing, until Izzy almost fell asleep under his hands. He only noticed that they were done when Duff climbed off him. 

“Come here,” he demanded, while rolling over and getting the comforter out from under himself. 

Duff shook his head. Instead he leant against the headboard and unceremoniously pulled Izzy into his arms. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Izzy asked. “You’re almost naked.” 

It was cool in the cabin and Duff was only wearing shorts. The heating had been a bit wonky over the last two days, and there hadn’t been time for repairs. 

“You’re completely naked,” Duff observed. “Aren’t you cold?” 

“I do have the covers.”

“I have you,” Duff gave back. 

Izzy thought about sending Duff packing, but then cushioned his head on his thigh and begrudgingly allowed himself to be … well, taken care of. Duff combed his fingers through his hair, untangling the last knots, and then passed over to blatant cuddling. Which made him once again ponder eviction. If Duff needed a stuffed animal, he would buy him one at next port. 

“I’m going to teach you something,” Duff said softly, his hands sure and soothing on his head. Deft fingers rubbed tiny circles over his temples, then smoothed out any furrows between his eyes and, God, why had he never thought about letting somebody do this for him? Because it was freaking embarrassing to be pampered like this, that’s why. 

“You’re going to teach me something,” Izzy retorted. 

“Yep,” Duff confirmed. “I know usually it’s you teaching me and not the other way round, but there’s one thing you’ve really got to learn, Izzy.”

“And what would that be?” Izzy asked, too content to do anything but let Duff do whatever it was he had gotten into his mind. 

“Accept nice things.”

“I very well…,”

“Nope,” Duff interrupted him. “You don’t know how to do that. You brush off any signs of gratitude, you make fun of any compliments you get, and you can’t just for once relax and let me take care of you.”

“What am I doing here, huh?” Izzy gave back. 

“Not letting go, you’re not. You’re indulging me, that’s something else. I can almost hear the shoulds and shouldn’ts rattle in your head. But you will learn.” Izzy felt a kiss on his forehead. “Because I’m going to teach you.”

Izzy snorted and rearranged himself more comfortably in Duff’s lap. 

“We’ll start with the gratitude thing.”

“No, we won’t,” Izzy gave back, because the last thing he wanted to hear was more of Duff’s inane gratefulness about being allowed to breathe or take up space or live in general.

“Yes, we will. Because today, I was really grateful.”

“Duff,” Izzy protested. 

“Hush, let me finished.” Duff’s hands were on his nape and his shoulders now, rubbing away kinks he hadn’t even been aware of. “When those people came on board, I was pretty sure it would be like … that I would have to be a slave fulltime again. Because that was how they were treating me. When you sent me off to have an eye on them, you know.”

“Did they…,” Izzy tried to sit up. 

“No,” Duff’s arms quickly came around his body to hold him down, and he submitted. “No, they didn’t do anything. Just the way they were looking at me and talking over me when I tried to say something. The usual, you know? How people treat slaves all the time. Without malice, just because it’s their God given right or something. And I was fed up with that after just one day on planet. So, I thought, fuck, how am I even going to survive, if I now have to be like that all the time? Again. When I had just gotten used to not being like that. But you put your foot down. Right away. You didn’t even hesitate. And I’m grateful for that, so, thank you.”

“I didn’t do that for you…,” Izzy started, but Duff just shushed him again. 

“Quiet,” he said softly. “Accept it. Thank you, Izzy. Really.”

“Hm,” Izzy made. 

“You gave me authority I shouldn’t even have, and that is awesome.”

“You will have to maintain that authority,” Izzy cautioned him. “I can back you up, but …”

“I know,” Duff said quickly. “I can do that. I only had to know your stance in that matter. I thought, maybe you wanted me to be … dunno … respectful. To not make you look bad. Like you can’t control your slaves, or something. Anyway, I can hold my own.”

Izzy hmmed again. 

“So,” Duff continued. “Part two. I’m going to make you a compliment and you will just accept it. No deflection, no making fun of it, just say ‘thank you’.”

At that suggestion, Izzy sat up and looked Duff directly into the eye. 

“Dude, have you gotten into the drug cabinet? ‘cause I swear, you’re behaving really weird tonight.”

“You have beautiful eyes,” Duff said unfazed. “Dark and expressive, and when you smile, they turn from moody to bright in an instant.”

“I …what?” Izzy asked back. 

Duff didn’t look drunk and he was pretty sure the drug cabinet was locked. Leave alone that his eyes were absolutely clear and awake and, fuck, did the kid have pretty eyes. He still wouldn’t wax poetic about them and Duff shouldn’t either. 

Duff, however, was dead set on his latest lunacy. 

“That’s not how it goes,” he admonished. “And you won’t get out of it either. I will keep making you compliments until you say thank you and lie down.”

“Do you _want_ to get punished kid?” Izzy asked, being almost serious about it. “‘cause that’s where you’re heading.”

“I like your smile, too,” Duff continued, not at all perturbed by the threat. “Most of the time it’s more like a smirk or even a sneer, but when you forget that you’re a bad-tempered bastard, and really smile, it lights up your whole face. I also like that you do it so rarely, ‘cause when it happens, you really notice how awesome it is. And it’s always genuine. You’d never fake a smile. And then I like…”

“OK. Thank you,” Izzy said hastily before Duff got a chance to go on. 

“See?” Duff smirked. “Not so difficult.”

“I’m too tired for this shit.” Izzy plopped back down and this time Duff stretched out next to him. Izzy turned his back on him, but that only led to Duff spooning up behind him. He really had to get him a stuffed animal. A huge one, so that he could wrap his whole body around it. Apparently, he wasn’t done with pampering either because Duff’s hand was back in his hair, stroking and … yep, scratching him behind the ears. The way he himself often did with Axl. 

Izzy decided to let him for now. He would think about retaliation later. When he had his mental capabilities back. No matter how nice it felt, Duff wouldn’t get away with this one. 

“Wake me for breakfast,” he said. “I’m too lazy to set the alarm.”


	23. A Big Fish

As usual, Axl wasn’t tired. Normally he would spend some time in the sitting room, watching the stars outside, but he absolutely didn’t feel like seeing any of the new additions to their company. So, he had retreated to his cabin, pulled a book up on the screen, and watched Slash roll around on the floor. 

Having him try to get comfortable in his makeshift bed was annoying. The permanent disruption of what was supposed to be a quiet evening kept him from concentrating on his book and he was short of throwing something into Slash’s general direction, just to make him stop.

Over the last hour he hadn’t managed to lie still for longer than five minutes, and every move, be it from his left to his right side or from his belly to his back, was accompanied by a myriad of sounds that indicated all the same thing: discomfort. 

Axl had thought about offering him a place in his bed for almost just as long, but the decision was not an easy one. The bed was not exactly big and while he didn’t sleep much, he would eventually need his two hours at a minimum. 

In all his time onboard the XXG Axl had never slept in the company of anybody, if one left out his state of unconsciousness during treatment. Whenever he closed his eyes and thus made himself vulnerable, he ensured that his door was locked. But even that left one tiny speck of unease within his mind. Izzy had the code to override his own. He could lock out Duff and Slash and every dubious passenger in the whole wide world, but Izzy’s code allowed him access everywhere. 

During his first months he hadn’t known a single hour of peaceful sleep. He had succumbed to exhaustion in just the same way he had on Tarui, jerking upright at the tiniest of noises, ready to fight off whatever was coming his way. Lying down, closing his eyes, deciding to sleep, just because he wanted to, not because he absolutely had to, … that had taken ages. He still cherished that gift every single night. 

When Izzy had realized what was going on, he had installed an extra feature into his control panel. In the case of an emergency he would use his code, he had said, but before the door opened there would be an alarm loud enough to wake him. 

Still today, Axl checked every single evening that the alarm was activated. He even made Izzy enter his code every now and then, to check if it really worked or had maybe been secretly switched off. Izzy never complained, never called him a fool, just entered the code, shut off the alarm and reactivated everything again. 

And now somebody would be inside the same room while he was sleeping. During those few hours, he would be vulnerable for whatever Slash might want to do. Of course, having him on the floor while falling asleep wasn’t any less dangerous. It still meant somebody was close while he was open to abuse, but having Slash in his bed would feel so much worse. 

When the time came, he should probably wake him and tell him to wait outside while he was catching up on his few hours. Or delay his own sleep until Slash was awake and away. It should be possible somehow. He could start working a bit later, try to catch a couple minutes during lunch break or after dinner. Nobody said he had to sleep two hours in one piece, he could divide it over the whole day. 

Another round of rustling blankets, followed by a resigned sigh, made him change his mind. 

“Come up here,” he said, when he realized that nobody would get any sleep like this. He wouldn’t close his eyes anyway, and he could just be awake with Slash in his bed. 

“What?” Slash looked up from under the cover. 

“Bed is big enough.”

“You sure?” 

There was hope in Slash’s eyes, and for a moment Axl almost pulled back. But Duff had said that for Slash it was all about breasts and he didn’t have any of those. He should be safe. Hopefully. 

“No, so if you don’t hurry, the chance might be over. I’m only offering once.”

Slash took his chance. Axl moved to one side and Slash climbed in on the other. Belatedly he realized that the bed was smaller than he had thought. It was possible to sleep two persons, if one absolutely insisted, but not without touching. Every now and then he would brush against Slash’s arm or his leg or whatever body part was nearest. It was disgusting. 

“Why don’t you sleep in Duff’s bed?” Axl asked. “I don’t think he’ll need it any time soon.”

“Hm,” Slash made. “He’ll stumble in when Izzy’s done with him, and then he’s always so … hm … afterwards.”

“You mean his state of well-fucked contentedness.” 

“Yeah, that.” 

It was annoying, Axl agreed. Annoying and completely incomprehensible.

“Izzy allowed him to sleep in his bed, last night. Maybe he won’t come back.”

“Oh,” Slash said. “Yeah, had to happen eventually.”

They fell silent again and there was a bit more nudging and shifting and trying to settle next to each other. Somehow Slash wouldn’t fall asleep, not even now that he was not lying on the floor. Maybe he also had difficulties to deal with their sudden proximity.

“What are you reading?” he asked after a while. 

“Some book,” Axl replied. 

“Yeah, dude, got so much,” Slash retorted. “What’s it about?”

“About some insane captain and a big fish.”

“Huh. Read me some?” Slash asked. 

“I’m in the middle of it,” Axl protested. “You have no idea what it’s even about.” 

If he was honest, he had some difficulties getting what it was about, too. It was definitely not just about a big fish, but the book was written in such a weird way, that keeping on top of it was not easy. Sometimes he had to go back and reread whole paragraphs because they were full of words he had never heard in his life. 

“Then start at the beginning,” Slash suggested. 

“What, all over?”

“Why not?”

“Phh,” Axl made. “Read it yourself.”

Slash was silent for a moment. “I like to listen to you,” he then said. “To your voice. You could read instruction manuals to me and I would listen.”

Axl sighed. “Will you shut up if I do?”

“Yes.”

“Ok then.” Axl hit the start button and the book scrolled back to the beginning. “Call me Ishmael,” he read. 

“Why should I call you Ishmael?” Slash asked bewildered. 

“That’s the beginning of the book, you moron,” Axl said. “Will you listen now?”

“Yes, go on.” Slash settled back into the pillow, his arm brushing against Axl’s thigh. He waited a second, making sure there wouldn’t be suddenly a hand where it wasn’t supposed to be, but Slash stayed where he was. 

“Call me Ishmael,” Axl repeated. “Some years ago--never mind how long precisely --having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.”

If he was honest, he didn’t mind so much starting at the beginning again. He had thought the story might be somehow relevant to their own life, as it was playing on a ship and starring an insane captain. It was a bizarre book and ships back then had been very different from ships today. The old-fashioned language did not help either. But he liked the long-winded sentences and how the words rolled into each other like the ocean Izzy had once shown him. He had always hoped they might see another ocean one day, but it hadn’t happened. Reading a book about it was probably the closest he would ever get to one again. 

He went on for a while, but reading aloud was a bit embarrassing and after a couple of minutes, Axl decided to call it quits. 

“Go on,” Slash said softly without opening his eyes. 

And so Axl read. Eventually Slash’s breathing evened out and his curly head tipped to the side to rest lightly against his hip. He still kept reading, his voice getting softer first, then continuing in silence, until he got tired himself. 

That was a dilemma. He hadn’t expected to get tired so fast, but Izzy had made them work until almost midnight. He felt it in his bones and his muscles and his body demanded what everybody else was getting: sleep. 

He made certain that Slash was really fast asleep. He probably wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, definitely not before Axl had gotten his recharge. Then he moved on top of the covers and shifted downwards, careful not to wake him. With a last glance toward his bedmate, Axl rolled in on himself and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t really sleep, just catch a bit of rest. He knew how to do that while staying alert to the slightest sound or movement. He had done it all his life. 

+++

Slash was startled out of his sleep by the feeling of something being wrong. At first, he couldn’t make out what the problem was, but then he realized that he heard something above the hum of the engine: low, barely audible whimpers. 

He looked around. The ship was never fully dark. Dim light strips ran around the bottom of the walls to ensure nobody was breaking their bones in case of an emergency. It wasn’t much, but enough to make out vague shapes in the darkness, and one of those shapes was a lump next to him, on top of the bedspread. Axl, rolled up incredibly tight into himself, making those pitiful, little sounds, as if he was trying even in his sleep to keep them locked inside his body. 

Slash recognized a nightmare when he saw one. They all had them now and then. He knew Izzy’s anguished moans and once he had heard miserable no-please-nos out of Duff’s cabin, but this was the first time he witnessed Axl’s specific brand. No wonder, Axl hardly ever slept and this was so low, it wouldn’t even be audible outside. 

Slash himself had been shaken by Izzy out of his own nightmares a couple of times, and when he himself witnessed one of his shipmates’ nightly terrors, he just made enough noise to wake them up. 

It was another unspoken rule, wake the sleeper, but don’t ask, don’t linger, and definitely don’t suggest to be there in case somebody needed to talk or do some other touchy-feely-stuff. 

Unfortunately, he had no idea how to deal with this one. Waking Axl in the middle of being scared could just as well lead to an explosion. Maybe not a full-blown rage, but enough to not want to be locked into a tiny room with him. And what to do when he was awake? Roll over and pretend nothing had happened? Leave him alone? 

Could he even touch him? Switch on the light? Get out of bed and make some noises? He just decided that light might be a good idea, when Axl turned around and their bodies touched. Slash caught his breath. Axl’s hands were on his chest for a moment, then they slipped off and clenched into fists around the cloth of his shirt. Slash lay absolutely still. Axl buried his face against his shoulder and the next round of whimpers was muffled by his body. Then he calmed and the whine ebbed off. 

Slash didn’t move. He just lay there, staring at the dark ceiling, with Axl’s head on his shoulder and his hands fisted in his shirt. He couldn’t say how long they lasted like this. Eventually he fell asleep once more and was only woken up by sudden scrambling next to him. 

“What’s up?” he gasped and sat bolt upright. 

“Nothing,” Axl said. He stood next to the bed, a vague silhouette in the dim light. “Go back to sleep. I just need to … go drink something.”

Axl didn’t return after that. When Slash opened his eyes the next morning, he was alone. 

+++

Duff woke in Izzy’s bed. This was the second night, he realized, although they had spent hardly more than two hours asleep. They weren’t cuddling anymore, but Izzy was still dead to the world. No surprise there. Carefully he climbed out of bed, collected his clothes and managed to leave without waking him. 

It was still early, but not too early for coffee. He had just started the preparer, when somebody joined him in the kitchen. Lis, he realized, Slash’s woman. 

They had had a short team meeting later in the evening, in the middle of the engine room, and for once everybody had put the cards on the table, yelling over the noise, whenever the engine started its occasional roar, laughing at each other’s stupidity, and in general deciding that they were a complete bunch of losers. It had felt good. It had of course been mainly about Izzy’s and Slash’s backstory, but just to be fair, Duff had volunteered some anecdotes from his misspent youth. Axl hadn’t contributed anything beyond caustic remarks, but nobody had expected him to. 

“Can I help?” she asked. 

“Not really,” Duff said. “I only make coffee in the mornings.” 

He should probably start setting out food that could be eaten over the day. He hadn’t gotten around to making any lists yet and it was unlikely he would manage today either. Everything from the engine rooms to the storage area was still in disarray and they would all have to pick up where they had stopped yesterday night. It would be like this for a week at least, as they couldn’t shut off any part of the system for a general overhaul. 

“But you can take on mine and Axl’s jobs up here later. I don’t think we’ll have time for that and somebody has to do it.”

It would be easiest to just clear out one cupboard and put the days’ rations into it. It sucked that they would now even have to ration freaking protein bars, but it couldn’t be helped. Or maybe he would just look for a box and deposit it somewhere central. 

“Do you have a list?”

“Yeah.” 

Duff pulled out some mugs and handed her one. Normally it would be about time to wake Izzy, but Izzy really needed rest. He had looked like a zombie the evening before, almost keeling over on his feet, and unlike the rest of them he had hardly gotten any sleep. It wouldn’t keep him from throwing a hissy fit once he woke up on his own, but Duff decided it was worth it. 

“Can I have your bracelet?” he asked and fiddled with his own. 

She lifted her hand and he transferred the list he had compiled with Axl the evening before. 

“Thanks.” she poured herself some coffee. “Want some?”

Duff held his mug into her direction. 

“It’s a bit difficult.” She sat down. “We need to come to an agreement, but how? Your captain won’t talk to me, Slash won’t talk to me. I do get why, but … we were desperate and nobody gives me a chance to explain.”

“Yeah,” Duff said, not feeling much compassion. “I guess that’s because at least Izzy doesn’t care about why you do something. He only cares about the results. And you pulled us all into your heap of shit, so, no, I suppose nobody is overly interested in your triple P.”

“My what?” she asked. 

“Personal pity party,” Duff said. 

It was what Axl accused him of whenever Duff complained about his lack of education. According to Axl there was a whole library to rectify that problem, but whenever Duff opened the catalogue, he ended reading up on stuff he was just interested in instead of stuff that might help broaden his very limited horizon. Although, really, Axl was one to talk. He was the master of the capital triple P himself. 

“I guess I deserved that,” she replied with a curt nod. 

‘Not only that,’ Duff thought. From what Slash had told him, she had not only agreed to sic Izzy’s ex-wife at him, she had also very likely instructed her about how to do it, how to get him into bed, what he liked and how to make it good enough that he wouldn’t realize what was going on until it was too late. Duff had been caught via a sexual misstep himself, so this hit really close to home. 

She went through the to do list, wrinkling her nose at the less savoury parts. The ship was old, its systems were old and if they didn’t care properly for anything regarding waste disposal, the fallout would be epic. He had talked Axl out of adding extra gross tasks, this was simply what they had to do any other day. 

“I would make sure to get it done,” Duff cautioned her. “It’s what Axl and I usually manage within half a day, so with four persons you should be capable. Even if you’re not familiar with the ship. Izzy said that any space gipsy will find their way around on any ship, so, I suppose he won’t accept excuses. Really, if I were you, I’d work off the list.”

“And if not?” she asked with a small smile, as if she wasn’t taking him serious.

“Guess you’ll see.” He finished his coffee. “You think Izzy is cross with you now, try finding out what really gets him cross.”

She sobered at that. 

“Is he a rigorous master?”

Duff thought about it. It was difficult to say. Maybe Izzy didn’t punish because he simply never had to. While Axl tended to complain about his tasks, he finished them without fault. Slash loved his engines enough to keep them in pristine condition without additional incentive. Duff had worked all his life, so this wasn’t anything new for him. And that didn’t even take this weird ‘please-your-master-syndrome’ he had developed into account. 

He was sure that Izzy could be very rigorous, if he considered it necessary, but so far, he hadn’t experienced that side. Not that he wanted to. 

“No,” he finally said. “No, he isn’t. But he’s a rigorous captain. Like I said, he doesn’t accept excuses.” 

“I’m really trying to fit in,” she said. “I don’t know what Slash has told about me, but I’m not trying to get special treatment. I just need to understand what is expected and how things work here.”

Duff thought back to his first day, when he had asked Axl pretty much the same question.

“First,” he repeated what he had been told back then. “Don’t be an asshole.”

She cast him an offended look. “I’m seriously trying not to.”

“It’s a start,” Duff conceded. “Because you already were. Second: don’t piss off Izzy.”

“I’m afraid, that ship has sailed.”

“Yeah,” Duff agreed. “It’s what will make it difficult for you.”

“You’re pretty outspoken,” Lis said. 

‘For a slave,’ Duff mentally finished for her. 

She was talking to him because she perceived him as the weakest link. The one to pump for information about the people that were really important. Not about him, not about Axl. 

“You wanted to know how things work around here, and that’s how we operate,” he said aloud. “I’ll come up and check now and then, how it’s going or if you need anything.” 

He put his cup away and before he left, he turned around and looked at her. 

“You know what’s funny?” he asked. “If your … uhm… bounty hunter had just asked, Izzy might even have helped you. Now? I’m not so sure you’ll get anything out of him beyond what you’ve already forced him into.”


	24. Ice Mining

Duff was already down in the engine room when Axl and Slash stumbled in together. 

“Uhm,” Slash said after they had worked for almost an hour. “Did anybody bother to wake up Izzy?” 

“He thinks he can operate without sleep,” Duff said, “but, surprise, he actually can’t. I figured I let him sleep in.”

“You sure this is a good idea?” Slash asked back. 

“It’s not like he’ll sleep the whole day,” Duff exclaimed. “Only until he wakes up on his own. He was really beat yesterday and I think if we put in a bit of an effort, we can make up for an hour or two.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Slash replied. “And normally I’d agree with you. But today? He might not want to be seen slacking after that pep talk he delivered over dinner.”

“I…,” Duff stuttered. He hadn’t thought this far. 

“Oh well,” Slash said, just when the door opened. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

At least Izzy looked less sleep deprived, Duff thought. His face wasn’t so drawn anymore and there was a bit of energy to his step. He carried a mug of coffee and when he spotted Duff, he crooked his finger to beckon him over. Slash gave him a pitiful look and retreated to where Axl was working on the cooling system. 

“I’m sorry,” Duff said. He wasn’t, not really, but he got a feeling, he would soon be. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I get why you did it,” Izzy said. He didn’t yell, like Duff had expected, but there was an edge of steel to his voice, that betrayed his anger just as fine. “Point is, I don’t really care, because it’s not your call to make. I ask you to wake me up at a certain time, I expect that to happen.”

“Yes,” Duff said, feeling as if he had swallowed a spoon full of pepper. And he should know how that felt because he had done it once when Axl had dared him to. Now he knew why Izzy didn’t need to punish. He could make people feel like shit with just a few words.

“I know it’s at least partly my fault because I have been muddying the waters between you and me,” Izzy continued when Duff just wished to be sent off to clean the floor with a toothbrush. “So, to make it clear: playtime is playtime and when we play, I’ll let you get away with pretty much anything. But it can’t bleed over into everyday life.”

“Got it,” Duff said, feeling at least three inches smaller than Izzy. 

“Good. I rather like our current arrangement and would like to keep it as it is. That’s why I indulged that weird mood you were in yesterday evening, but if indulging you leads to this, then I can draw the lines clearer. Maybe that will help you to better understand.”

“That’s not necessary,” Duff replied, sure his face was crimson with embarrassment.

“All right. Then you can start on freezer room one. It’s empty. Chip out the ice, collect it, add it to the water recycler. Make sure you don’t damage the walls. Then move the stuff from freezer room two over, rinse, repeat, freezer room three, etc.”

“All today?” Duff asked, growing faint. They had six freezer rooms and number one was the smallest. 

“Nah.” Izzy took a sip of coffee. “As far as you get. It’s gonna take … ugh … no idea. Depends on how much I can spare you. Just get started.”

Duff found out pretty soon that chipping ice sucked. Freezer room one was about the size of his cabin. The walls were covered in several inches of ice and the icicles growing from the ceiling made it look like a dripstone cave. Equipped with hat and gloves, he went at it with a chisel, but still started to feel cold pretty soon.

They had originally planned to just let it defrost on its own while on Loomah, but as soon as the ice mingled with whatever residues could be found on the floor, the water would go through the wastewater recycler, not the drinking water recycler. Which they couldn’t afford, now that they were in space again and had suddenly doubled their population. So he not only had to get off the ice, he had to do it without switching off the cooling system.

The ceiling was the worst. His shoulders protested, ice chips landed on his face and once he almost poked out his eye when an icicle came down faster than he had anticipated. His only reprieve was the timer, which went off every twenty minutes to remind him about opening the door and refreshing the oxygen supply.

Duff worked through lunch break and managed freezer room one sometime around late afternoon. When he came out, he just flopped down on the floor in the middle of the engine room. 

“Now you know what mining is like,” Axl said and dropped a protein bar onto his chest. “Eat some.”

“Fuck, you did that day in day out?” he asked. He pulled the gloves off his stiff hands and tried to get some life into his limbs.

“Yep,” Axl replied. “OK, not by hand. We had machinery, of course. But sometimes, when shafts were too narrow for the heavy equipment, they would send somebody in to do it by hand. To be honest, I don’t think it was really worth the effort, they only did it out of sheer sadism. Sometimes you had to crawl in on your knees, and you could only get out backwards because it was too narrow to turn. 

Once they sent me into one where I had to work lying on my belly. I thought I’d suffocate because all the dust would get into my lungs and my eyes and they had refused to give me a mask. When my shift was over, I didn’t have enough strength left to crawl all the way backwards. They said they’d just leave me in there to rot, but in the end, they pulled me out. At least ice doesn’t dust, I suppose.”

Duff peeled the protein bar out of its wrapper. Lately Axl was telling more and more of those stories, but Duff had learned quickly that he didn’t want a response to them. Maybe he just needed to get bits and pieces out to see how they looked under broad daylight. That they couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

His stomach growled in protest when he bit into the protein bar, demanding more than just a bit of crumbling food debris. It would have to wait until dinner. His hands were trembling from exertion and his fingers were so numb from the cold, he barely felt anything. Five more of those, he thought. 

“I checked on our labourers upstairs, while you were freezing your nuts off,” Axl said. 

“And?” 

Axl shrugged. “They work. Not exactly with enthusiasm, but they were all looking sweaty enough that I’d say, they all did at least something. Sucking up to Izzy, I’d say. They can’t risk to antagonize him any further. Kept asking me when they could talk to him.”

Duff snorted. “They tried the same with me.”

“And they’re pissed that you locked the kitchen.”

“I left them a box outside,” Duff protested. “Because I caught Jari munching on an apple just five minutes after I had left. Izzy told them they couldn’t just eat whatever they want. It’s not like we’re having a lavish picnic down here, we’re eating the same shit I left them.”

Axl laughed. “I’m all with you. But I get the feeling, they’re not used to it. Taking orders from a slave.”

“Not my problem. Izzy said we have to keep them in line. So, it’s him ordering them, not us. I’m just the messenger. Do you think he will ever talk to them or will it be like this the whole journey?”

“Maybe, if they’ve done enough grovelling. Come!” Axl extended a hand. “Get up.”

Duff groaned. “I should get back to number two, shouldn’t I?”

“Nope,” Axl replied. “You should take a break from chipping ice. You can help me, if you like. Or just lie here in the dirt, if that’s better. You’re not going back in there today.”

“But Izzy said...”

“Izzy’s over there,” Axl said. “Do you see him complaining? No? Then he’s OK with it. Now come.”

Everything was better than returning to the freezer rooms, and so Duff trailed after Axl and cleaned up behind him, until he had to go upstairs and start on dinner. 

+++

Slash had dreaded the moment they would all come together once more for dinner and wondered if he could live on booze and protein bars for the next few months. Only then he would also have to live without Duff’s cooking because Izzy, that bastard, had forbidden him to provide room service. And so here they were again, knocking their knees under the table and glaring at each other. 

Out of a feeling of obligation after his previous lapsus, Duff, despite being close to sleepwalking and suffering from sudden delayed shivers after a day in the freezer room, had given his best. He could have saved himself the effort. Slash wasn’t hungry and neither was anybody else. They were all sitting over their plates in glum silence. It was oppressing, but not even Duff dared to crack some stupid joke in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Axl was pushing food from left to right like a bored child, and Slash himself was stirring everything around in circles, until he had turned his whole plate into one big, unappetizing swamp. Izzy was eating with grim determination, as if it was the last meal he would ever get. And the group of passengers didn’t seem to appreciate Duff’s culinary skills either. The only one tucking away was Jari. 

This couldn’t go on. Izzy was as stubborn as they came. He was able to hold out for weeks, if he set his mind to it, but the rest of them weren’t. Axl had taken to hiding, Duff looked like a beaten puppy, and Slash was reasonably sure he’d turn into a raging alcoholic himself if they didn’t find a way to at least normalize the situation. If Izzy was too pig-headed, then he would have to be the one to make the first step.

He put his fork down and looked up. 

“Where’s your husband, Lis?” 

She looked startled, her head coming up in surprise, but she caught up fast enough. 

“You know about Riku?”

“Yes. He’s got anything to do with … this?”

Duff had stopped eating. Axl had given up any pretence of boredom. The only one still chewing, was Izzy, but even he was watching with a certain interest. 

“We are not … together anymore.”

“Got that,” Slash replied. “’cause you’re here and he isn’t. So that’s it? Trouble in paradise made you kidnap a space-ship?”

Wasn’t that what she wanted? A chance to explain what was going on? She had prodded both Duff and Axl earlier, she should welcome her opportunity. Only she probably hadn’t thought she’d have to do so in front of absolutely everybody. 

“It’s a long story,” she said and picked at her food.

“I’m done with work for today,” he gave back. “Unless you want to do some more cleaning yourself, I’m all ear.”

She gave him a ‘can’t we talk about this in private’ look, but Slash stared back blankly and waited. He had learned from the best.

“I didn’t just forget about you and moved on,” she said. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Honestly, after I was gone to never return, moving on would have been the sensible thing to do. It’s what I had been planning myself,” Slash replied with a certain satisfaction at the hurt look her face obtained. 

“Then you’re more practically inclined than me,” she said. “I married him because at that time, I wanted out, out from home, away from my parents. I think you remember.”

“Kind of,” Slash said. 

“Riku was …,” she faltered.

“Convenient,” Axl said. 

Lis gave him a sharp look, but then she nodded. “Yes. Convenient. I had returned to college and got introduced to him at some society event. I was still financially depending on my family and at that time he was my ticket out.”

“You could have just gotten a job,” Duff said. “What?” he added, when he caught Izzy’s amused look. “It’s what people do!”

“Maybe in your caste,” Izzy replied. “The higher you get, the more complications.”

“That is kind of true,” Lis agreed. 

“Bullshit,” Slash interrupted her.

And it was. Maybe he had never really known her at all, but he knew her good enough to be sure that she wouldn’t sell herself like that. At least he hoped he did. Maybe even that was an illusion. 

“Sorry, but, yeah. Bullshit. I may have been totally wrong about everything that has ever happened between us, but I know you better than that. You don’t just marry some guy because you don’t know how to find a job. You were having a job when we met. Might not have been what your Daddy had envisioned for you, but it paid the rent, as far as I remember.”

“Slash …”

“No!” he butted in. “No. Tell the truth or don’t bother at all. Don’t feed me some crap. If I want a good night story, I’ll ask Axl.” 

They stared at each other like opponents in a fight, neither willing to back down. 

“OK,” Lis finally said. “You want the truth? You’ll get it. You wouldn’t have gotten off planet if I hadn’t made a deal with my father. With his connections? He could have intercepted you anytime he wanted.”

“What deal?” Slash asked. 

Yes, she had given him some pointers, about where to go, how to get past security, but that shouldn’t have required a deal.

“I had to make sure you left for good,” she said. “I had to quit my interesting but sub-standard-job and go back to college.” She hesitated for a moment, but then her face turned grim. “And I had to get rid of the baby.”

“The…,” Slash. 

“I wasn’t far along,” Lis said quickly. “In fact, I didn’t even know before shit hit the fan. And I wouldn’t have known what to do with a baby anyway. It was the best solution. For once I agreed with my parents.”

“You … I…, but…”

“There is one thing you should keep in mind,” Aino said. “Just for the future, I mean. Contraception is not only for women. Really, you didn’t even ask me.”

Slash gave her an annoyed look. Then he wanted to say something of the usual crap, about how he should have had a right to know, how she should have asked his opinion, but he knew it was just that: crap.

He couldn’t have contributed anything even if he had wanted. And if he was honest, at barely twenty, he wouldn’t have wanted to. She wouldn’t have wanted either. They both hadn’t been the type. If they had still been together, still planning to run away on some space ship, they probably would have come to just the decision she had made on her own. 

“I’m sorry,” he still said, because it was what one had to say in such a case. “I should have been there for you.”

“Not exactly your fault you weren’t,” she said. “Anyway, I agreed. There was nothing else to do. You had to get away and those were the conditions. Then life just … crashed, I suppose. Everything was in shambles, all our plans, our dreams. I didn’t know where you were, what had become of you. I guess I fell into some kind of depression and when Riku was pushed into my way … it’s not that I hated him or was forced to marry. He was just there, he was nice enough, he was persistent, and in the end, I was just as … convenient,” she said with a nod into Axl’s direction, “for him as he was for me. I got away from my family and he got connections to the family I wanted to get away from.”

“Awesome,” Axl said. He shrugged when Slash cast him an annoyed glance. “Just saying. Go on. Can’t wait for the next chapter.”

“This isn’t a soap opera,” Aino suddenly cut in. 

“Yeah, it kind of is,” Axl gave back. “Ever since you started to mess up our life, it’s turned into one big, eternal soap opera, where one revelation is more ridiculous than the previous. What’s coming next? You and Izzy are twins that were separated at birth? Duff’s the long-lost son of some Great Mogul from somewhere?”

“Not likely,” Duff said. “My Mom kept telling me about the horrors of my birth. Seems like I was never exactly tiny, not even in uterus.”

Aino looked at Izzy, apparently expecting him to put Axl into his place, but Izzy just kept eating, seemingly disinterested in the whole discussion. Izzy would take out all the additional quips and barbs and pleas for compassion and boil everything down to the bareboned facts. Before he had those, he wouldn’t bother to contribute much. 

“It’s OK,” Lis said. “Axl is kind of right. It is a soap opera. Of course, it all soured pretty fast, but for his career, Riku needed an intact family. The only way he could have a publicly accepted divorce would have been if it was completely on me. He would need official documentation that it was inacceptable to stay married to me. Preferably stamped and sealed by court.”

For a moment Slash thought she was done, but then she took a deep breath. “Four years ago, my father died. My mother was in very bad shape. Dementia. So, we decided something had to be done. We bought Mikah to keep her company.”

She cast the young slave a short glance, but he did not look up from his food. Slash supposed that, unlike Duff and Axl, he was far too well trained to show interest, leave alone talk without being prompted. Companion slaves were usually trained to perfection. They were exposed to visitors or business partners of their owners and had to act as a status symbol in addition to their other tasks. They were award-winning purebreds while Duff was more like a street mutt, and Axl came from the worst puppy mill in the entire galaxy. 

“It was a difficult time, but Mikah did a very good job. My mother died two years later, and he became part of our household. That was when we moved to Loomah. Riku had gotten a very well-paying position in the administration. Which makes things … difficult now. His influence has gained steadily over the years.”

“Why didn’t you sell him?” Slash asked. “He must be worth quite a bit and you didn’t really have any use for him.”

Lis glared at him full of contempt. “You’ve changed a lot if you’re asking that.”

“I’m sure there were more slaves,” Slash went on. “At least from what I remember your parents had a shitload of slaves, and I’m sure at least some of them did a good job, too. They all became part of your household? Took them all with you to Loomah?”

Lis didn’t reply. 

“Yeah,” Slash said. “Thought so. There was a reason you kept him. And why he’s here now.”

“During the last year, before my mother died, we spent a lot of time together. Mikah…,” she looked at him again, but he still didn’t deviate from perfect slave behaviour. “We would talk. A lot. Not only about my mother, but also … other things.”

“The state of your marriage, for example?” Axl butted in once more, with his uncanny aim for anybody’s personal embarrassment. 

“For example,” Lis conceded, gnashing her teeth. 

She might consider herself progressive, but she wasn’t used to slaves like him. She would likely get used to Duff’s frankness sooner or later, but Axl’s personality took a lot more than a theoretical nod to slave rights. 

“Riku wanted to sell him, I didn’t, he came to live with us.”

“End of story?” Slash asked. 

“No, of course not. At least not for Riku. As I said, I like spending time with Mikah. We are friends. Not more,” she emphasized, as if somebody had accused her of anything else. “Never more. That would have been a border that should never be crossed. There can’t be a sexual relationship between a slave and their owner. A slave can’t consent, and sex without consent equals rape.” 

She talked as if she was repeating a lecture, she had held countless times before. Slash was just about to tell her that nobody was accusing her of sex with Mikah, but she was already off again. 

“And Riku knew my stance in this matter, but he still … still...accused me of such an atrocity.”

“Pity,” Izzy said, completely unfazed by her agitation. 

He ran his thumb over Duff’s nape and down his spine in slow provocation, before he scraped the last bits off his plate and pushed it away. 

“Was really good, Duff,” he said with the type of soft smile he sometimes bestowed on him, soft, gentle. Besotted. Then his expression hardened again and he returned his attention to Lis. “You were saying?”

For a moment she just stared, her face running through a whole colour cascade of different shades of red. Axl watched in amusement. Aino seemed short of banging her head against the table. Jari, however, either didn’t know or didn’t care about what was going on. He was just helping himself to some more food. 

“So Riku knew my stance in this matter,” Lis repeated, and Slash gave her bonus points for not backing down, “and still accused me of having an affair with him.”

“That’s bullshit,” Axl said through a mouth of food. He had finally started eating. “You can’t have an affair with a slave because we’re not people. We’re items and that’s how the law treats us. Fuck, that’s how people treat us. Yeah, I know, your dear hubby was looking for a reason for divorce, but that one won’t hold up. It’s like having an affair with a vibrator.”

Duff choked and sputtered at that, and Izzy slapped his back until he caught himself again. 

“Take that one to heart, Duff,” he said. Slash saw the corners of his mouth twitch. 

“No. But he really believed it. And that’s when he turned from … distant to mean. I learned by sheer accident that he had contacted a sale’s agent.”

“Can’t,” Axl interrupted her again. “You inherited him from your Mom, means, he’s yours. Won’t go to the family property in case of inheritance, but solely to you. If you’d bought him, would be different.” 

Apparently, all those nights spent alone with the library catalogue were paying off, if he was this well informed about legal affairs.

Lis exhaled softly. “That’s the crux of the matter. Riku paid for Mikah and he always kept his contract. He took care of my mother, he didn’t belong to her.”

“So, you stole a slave and ran away?” Izzy asked. “That’s why we’re all here? And you want me to believe that?”

Slash didn’t believe it either, if he was honest. Back in the day, maybe, when she would still have thrown caution to the wind to follow a whim. As a respectable citizen, trying to not get a divorce? As a slave owner herself? As somebody who had pushed previous convictions aside for what she probably told herself were ‘compromises’ or ‘necessities’? No. 

“Look at yourself, captain,” she said exasperated. “Wouldn’t you fight for yours?” She pointed at Duff, probably not sure if Axl was worth fighting for.

Izzy cocked his head to the side. “I make sure I own my slaves before I grow attached to them. Anything else is pointless.”

“You don’t only own them,” she protested. “You let them run completely wild. They are the worst behaved bunch of slaves I’ve ever seen. Don’t tell me they are just slaves to you.”

“Ah, no,” Duff interjected. “That’s not fair. I’m a pretty well-behaved slave, actually. Most of the time. Maybe not always, but at least very often. Anyway. Axl on the other hand…,”

“Hey!” Axl yelled. “Who was stuck in the freezer chest all day, you or me? Izzy, say something!”

“Axl,” Izzy said, observing him with his usual tired look. “Since when do you aspire to being a well-behaved slave? If you even started to be anything less than your usual obnoxious self, I’d seriously worry for your health. So, for the everloving fuck, don’t. I have enough to worry about. OK?”

It got Axl to grin over his whole face and Slash realized with a start, how much more Axl was smiling lately. And when he thought back over the last two months, also how much easier he was to deal with. 

“Back to the big ‘why’,” Izzy said. “You’ve been trying to feed us bullshit ever since you started your … what does Axl call it?”

“Triple P,” Duff and Slash said in unison. 

“Right. You don’t have the money to get your beloved slave boy over there bought on the side and, don’t know, adopt him out to a good home or whatever you do in such a case. But you pay me a shitload to get you off planet. So, what is it? I’d say, your husband got something right and called you out on it. You did have an affair, right? Just not with your dear friend over there. With somebody who would have given him a reason for divorce without settlement. It was only a question of time until he found proof, and you would have been left with a serious cut of income. Which forced your hand. You had to act fast.”

“No!” Slash exclaimed when Lis’ eyes repeatedly flickered over to Aino. “Really? With her?”

“How do you think I taught her what you liked,” Lis said without looking at anybody. 

Slash bristled at that. 

“Which I have to apologize for.”

He couldn’t say that soothed his feelings in the least. 

“But I didn’t know what else to do.”

Yeah, that made it so much better. 

“We met at a bar,” Aino said. “On Loomah. We had too much to drink and the night went a bit wilder than planned.”

“So, you had an affair,” Slash went on, trying not to react further to that bit of information. “While your husband was working towards divorce anyway.” He was damned proud that he didn’t just run off to get a bottle of whisky. “Could have solved everything. Why not just agree to the fucking divorce, you’d still have enough money from your own family. Fuck, you could have lived happily ever after on far less than they had. He might even have just added Mikah to the package, if you played your cards right.”

“Only that wouldn’t have been the case,” Izzy said. “You would have been broke, right?”

Slash gave him a surprised look. It was a shot in the dark, he realized, but from the reaction it provoked, it had hit right home. 

“All that money you’re paying us? That’s not yours. It’s his. And you got Mikah involved in all this shit. That’s why he’s here. Not because he was such a good friend, but because he was a liability. That’s why you had to bring him along, and that’s why you’re running.”

“We got caught a bit too early,” Aino admitted. “Another week and we would have been good. Lis would have started on an extended leisure trip, we would have found a reason for Mikah to join her, and we would have all been off planet before the shit hit the fan. And Lis deserved the money, she had been taking up with his miserable ass for years.”

“What about your family money?” Slash asked. “I remember there was quite a bit of it.”

“Gone,” Lis said. “When we found out that my Mom wasn’t … mentally capable anymore, it was already gone. That’s another reason why we bought Mikah. He’s trained in bookkeeping, and it was part of his tasks to hold the leftovers together. Which he did, but when all obligations were finally taken care of, there wasn’t anything left.

Afterwards Mikah was working as Riku’s assistant. Riku had to keep him anyway until all inheritance matters were settled because he was the one who had an overview. After that he just stayed because he was very good at his job. A real asset, Riku used to say.” She smiled bitterly. “Not enough of an asset to keep him, as it turned out.”

“Mikah got us the passwords,” Aino said. “But that’s not why he was listed for sale. He was due before, because, yes, it was clear that Lis’ had some sort of affair and she did get along great with Mikah, so Riku jumped to conclusions. Or maybe he just did it to spite her. We promised to take him along if he helped us out.”

“Right,” Izzy said. “That makes sense, I’d say. At least partly. I still don’t believe all your tiny little sob elements interspersed through this whole mess, but doesn’t matter. Even if they are true, yeah, can’t say I give a fuck, really.”

He stood up and looked at Lis, not exactly more benevolent than before. 

“And here you think my slaves are a badly behaved bunch, huh? They may not know how to keep their eyes down, but they would never go behind my back either. If they ever felt the need to attack me, they would do it openly. From the front. Probably with some type of sharp weapon, yes, but do something like that? Never.”

He wrapped his arms around Duff from behind and kissed him onto the top of his head. 

“See me when you’re done here, OK?” 

Slash rolled his eyes. So far Izzy hadn’t even been openly affectionate with Duff, and there was no reason to start exactly now. He was just rubbing it in. Duff didn’t seem to mind or even notice, he just nodded and started collecting plates. 

“Jeff, wait,” Aino said. “We still have to talk about how to get to Goral.”

“We don’t have to talk about anything,” Izzy replied. “Yes, I know, telling me I could just let you run at the next port was bullshit because you’re dragging a stolen slave along. One scan and you’re done. But that’s not my problem. Only suggestion I have for you is: you get off at next port, leave the slave to me and I give you a fair head start before I hand him over to the authorities. You should get good enough fake docs for the rest of you. Maybe not good enough to start the kind of life your … girlfriend … is used to, but good enough to get a job as kitchen help or something similar. It’s just the slave who’s throwing you for a loop.”

“Jeff!” 

“So, I guess that’s it for the evening. I still have some things to take care of, which means, good night.”

Slash cursed inwardly. Izzy and his dramatic exits were a bit over the top sometimes. 

“He doesn’t mean that,” Lis said. “Or does he?”

“Dunno,” Slash replied. “Probably does.”

Mikah had turned pale at the suggestion. A slave who had betrayed his master would not fare well with his next owner. He still didn’t say anything though, just kept staring onto his still half full plate. 

Aino sighed. “He really hasn’t changed at all. I thought, when I found Jeff on the list of ships bound for Loomah … And when I then learned from Lis that once upon her time her lover had embarked on that exact ship, and when we checked the crew list and realized you were still there… I really thought, that things would play out.”

“Not so sure anymore, huh?” Slash asked. “You know the funny thing? It might have worked out if you hadn’t started this insane blackmail scenario. Izzy really might have helped you. But you had to point a gun at him.”

“That’s just what I said this morning,” Duff muttered while scraping leftovers into the recycler. 

“I couldn’t take any chances. Jeff left me behind once already.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you should have known that you just don’t force his hand,” Axl said. “Anybody care to do the dishes?”

“Forget it, I’ll do it,” Duff said. “If you all want to wallow in your misery, we still have enough alcohol available. And the sitting room is nice this time of the year, so … get the fuck out and let me do my job. This room was not made for so many people.”


	25. Throes of Passion

Duff dawdled a bit in the kitchen. He was shot, his shoulders were screaming bloody murder at him after working over his head so much, he had cooked an elaborate meal nobody had cared about, and he had to think. 

Izzy had told him to come as soon as he was done, which meant he expected a bit more from this evening than their usual tumble before falling asleep. 

There was also the question of punishment still hanging over his head. He had fucked up. Izzy had told him off, but instead of giving him some kind of disgusting task, like Axl claimed he was wont to do, he had just sent him off to do normal work. As if it had just been a small lapse, when he had in fact violated the most important slave rule: do as you’re told and never make your own decisions. 

Then there was dinner and all that talk about well-behaved and misbehaved slaves. Izzy hadn’t given in to it, but he knew him well enough to recognize when something hit a nerve. And the accusation that he let his slaves run wild, that he didn’t have a handle on his own household, had. 

Duff felt a tiny pang of guilt. They shouldn’t make Izzy look bad in front of strangers; not because it might eventually occur to him that he needed to rein his slaves in, but because it was a lot more likely that he would never do it. 

It’s just what they had been told during training all the time: that slaves needed the whip because they were not able to do their duty without the threat of punishment. That making the smallest concession always led to them taking advantage of their masters. At the moment he and Axl were doing their best to confirm that theory. 

Time to put his money where his mouth was, Duff decided. He had fallen short and he was ready to make up for it. Dead on his feet or not, he was determined to be exceptionally skilled tonight. Not only that, he would be attentive and obliging and definitely not tell Izzy what he should and shouldn’t do, the way he had done the night before. He might have meant well, but just as Izzy had told him: it wasn’t his call to make. 

With a deep breath he wiped the last few crumbs off the counter and went for a quick shower before he presented himself for whatever Izzy had planned, be it punishment or the night of his life. 

Izzy had cleaned up already, when he entered his cabin, his dark hair still a bit wild after the supersonic shower, but for once there weren’t any oil residues all over his body. 

Duff sat down on the bed as usual, waiting while Izzy finished whatever he was doing. It didn’t take long. 

“Hard day, huh?” Izzy asked when he joined him on the bed. “You managed a lot more than I had thought. I had planned two days just for freezer room one.”

“Means I can go a bit slower tomorrow?” Duff asked hopefully. 

He so wasn’t looking forward to a week of ice chipping, and if he had to do it at that speed, it would kill him. 

“The others can wait.”

“But…,”

“I said they can wait,” Izzy repeated, but he smiled as he said it. “I guess you learned your lesson.”

“Huh?”

Izzy looked at him as if he expected a reaction. 

“Why did I make you clean the freezer room, Duff?” he asked softly, as if prompting a little child towards an obvious answer. 

“Because … somebody had to do it?” Duff tried. 

“Oh God,” Izzy laughed. “Yes, somebody had to do it. But I keep work like that for special occasions.”

“Oh!” Duff made, suddenly realizing. “You mean, that was my punishment? For not waking you?”

“It was a reminder,” Izzy corrected. 

“So, Axl’s right? You really make him clean the toilet because …”

“Axl pissed me off so often, I’ve finally assigned him the bathrooms for good. But, yeah, he got them because he deserved them. Before you came, we all had to step in for the freaking household chores. Getting you was at least partly for that reason. So that Slash and me could concentrate on stuff that absolutely needs one of us. It also freed up a bit more of Axl’s time.”

Duff had never thought about how Slash and Izzy had managed before they had acquired the current slave population, and for a moment he amused himself silently with a picture of Izzy dusting off the furniture with grim space captain determination. 

“Anyway, it will be a few more days of drudgery and aching muscles I’m afraid.”

“Want me to help you relax?” Duff asked, trying to not sound too eager. 

So, he had gotten his punishment, it seemed, and hadn’t even been aware of it. That made room for part two of the plan: providing a night of outstanding service. 

“No,” Izzy said. “But I guess your muscles must hurt as hell, so, take off your clothes, you’ll get a massage.”

Startled Duff sat back. It threw his plan of perfect service for a serious loop, but being disobedient twice on the same day didn’t seem like a good idea. He wasn’t even sure if they had reached ‘playtime’ during which he was allowed to push back, or if this was still everyday business. Maybe he did need clearer lines after all. 

Slowly he took off his clothes and stretched out naked on the bed. With a bit of luck this would only start out as a massage and turn into mindless sex before he fell asleep. 

The bottle cap plopped audibly and then Izzy’s hands were on his shoulders and staying awake became infinitely harder. Duff sighed softly when fingers dug into his overworked muscles. He had to admit, that this may not have been his plan, but felt good nevertheless. 

“OK?” Izzy asked after a while. “Harder, softer?”

“Harder,” Duff said, trying to forget about his plan and relax instead. 

He could even pretend that it was all for Izzy. If the bastard wanted him to relax, then it was his duty to comply. Only his body hadn’t gotten that memo and remained tense. He wanted to do something, show his usefulness, not lie around and be pampered. 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me, huh?” Izzy said amused. “Have it your way.”

Izzy knew how to deliver a massage. It hurt when he pressed his fingers into his knotted muscles, and felt so good, when he moved off. Duff grunted his pain into the pillow and sighed his pleasure right after it. 

“Too much?”

“No. Perfect.”

“I aim to please,” Izzy said lightly and there was so much wrong with that statement that Duff almost stood up. When he was finally told to roll over, he sat up and reached for Izzy’s pants.

“Want me to…,”. 

“Nope,” Izzy replied and pushed him down again. “Not done with you yet.” 

He straddled Duff’s hips and lowered himself down onto his elbows, careful to maintain that inch of distance Duff knew he only kept because of his own ridiculous inhibitions. Why was Izzy still taking it into account? They should be long past such considerations. 

Teeth nibbled gently at his neck, interspersed with licks and kisses, pushing the collar out of the way to get to every bit of skin there was. 

Duff rocked back and forward a bit, trying to provide some friction between their cocks. Izzy grabbed his hips without stopping his nuzzling and quieted him. 

“Keep still?” he whispered. “Just let me make you feel good.”

“Sure,” Duff whispered, but he didn’t get it. 

His mind drifted back to the first day, when Izzy had told him to participate, to not lie there like a blow-up doll. He slipped his hands under Izzy’s shirt and again Izzy stopped him. He caught his hands and pressed them down above his head. 

“Be still, OK? Don’t move.” 

Duff nodded, but his thoughts started to race. Izzy peppered his chest with kisses, tucked his nipples between his teeth, did all the things that would have him stiff with pleasure in no time at all, yet it didn’t feel good. 

‘Don’t move!’

It was a clear order. His breathing sped up and he recognized the first tingles of panic in his mind. He was not shackled down, he reminded himself, not even held down, there was nothing they hadn’t done before, just Izzy suddenly enjoying him still for whatever reason and he just … couldn’t … take it. 

“Izzy?” he asked softly.

“Yes, sugar?” Izzy replied while gently rolling his nipples between thumb and index finger. 

“You said I can say ‘no’, if I want.”

“Yeah, sure,” Izzy replied, reapplying his lips to the task. 

Duff took a deep breath. “I’m saying no.”

Izzy sat back immediately. Then he climbed off Duff’s lap and tucked one leg under himself. Slowly Duff sat up, too, pulling his knees towards himself. 

“I’m sorry.” Talk about fucking up. 

“No.” Izzy shook his head. “No need. I just … where did I go wrong?”

“You didn’t,” Duff hurried to say. “It’s just…”

“Yeah, I did,” Izzy corrected him. “Didn’t you feel like sex at all? You were kind of tense the whole time, I just thought I could get you to relax. Or did I veer off somewhere?”

“I don’t like being … immobile.”

“Huh.” Izzy rubbed a hand over his face. “I know you like me on my back, I just thought … you had a hard day and might like to not have to do most of the work for a change.”

“You told me not to move,” Duff replied. “That’s …” he trailed off.

“That’s what, Duff?” 

Duff took another deep breath. “When they said that, it meant they were going down hard on you. And if you did move, then you got shackled. And if they had to shackle you, they made sure you would really regret it.”

“I triggered you?” Izzy asked. “That’s it?”

“Maybe,” Duff admitted. It was embarrassing. What did he have to be triggered about? “I mean, I know you won’t cuff me, ‘cause, where would you do it?” He made a vague gesture towards the smooth surface of the bed’s headboard. There was only even, white panelling everywhere. 

Izzy sighed. He reached up and tipped his hand against the control system on the nightstand. A small part of the panelling shifted away, opening to two tiny compartments behind the headboard that revealed…

“Slave docks?” Duff exclaimed. 

“Captain’s cabin,” Izzy said. “Interstellaria had some funny ideas. Anyway, I’ve never used them and I don’t intend to ever do so. Just to be clear. I’m not planning on suddenly springing anything on you. If they bother you too much, we can remove them, it would just require taking the whole fucking bed apart, so I’ve never bothered.”

“OK,” Duff said weakly.

It was good he hadn’t known they were there or he would have freaked out that first time Izzy had taken him to bed. Thinking about it, he would prefer it if he had been spared this little piece of information, but that ship had sailed. 

“Yeah, OK,” Izzy said.

He was quiet for a long time, until Duff wondered if this was his clue to leave. 

“I’m going to ask you a couple of questions,” he finally said. “There is no right or wrong and I don’t want you to say what you think I want to hear. I want your honest opinion.”

“OK,” Duff repeated. 

Izzy gave him a sharp look, and then he nodded. 

“Do you want to be here?”

“Of course,” Duff sputtered. 

“Not on the ship,” Izzy quickly amended. “I mean here. In my cabin. In my bed.”

“Of course!” Duff repeated. “Do you really have to ask that?”

“Yeah,” Izzy said. “’cause whenever I think I have a pretty good read on you, you do something that makes me wonder if maybe I’m way off the mark.”

“I want to be here,” Duff clarified. “In your bed. Having sex with you. Preferably now, but instead we’re playing twenty questions.”

Izzy smirked a little. 

“And you do feel comfortable enough to tell me when I’m … dunno … being too much?”

“I just told you, didn’t I?” Duff asked back. 

He didn’t add how difficult it had been for him to say ‘no’, but he had done it. Next time would be easier. Only there wouldn’t be a next time because he would not freak out like that again. 

“Yeah, you did,” Izzy confirmed. He looked at the wall, somewhere over Duff’s shoulder, as if something interesting was written there. 

“It was just a moment of panic, Izzy,” Duff tried to rectify things. How could one moment of fretting grow so out of proportion that Izzy suddenly questioned his ability to perform his duty? “I will likely get them now and then. I try not to, but… can’t be helped, I suppose. You don’t get too much, normally. On the contrary, you’re always so … considerate. I twitch and you give in. Which you don’t have to. Just saying.”

“You don’t think this is … fucked up? Wrong? Depraved? Whatever?”

“What? Because I’m a slave?” Duff shrugged, not sure he liked where this was heading. If Lis managed to get him thrown out of Izzy’s bed, she would get a whole new impression of how misbehaved Izzy’s slaves really were. “Yeah, it probably is. Axl at least thinks so.”

“Slash does, too,” Izzy said wryly. 

“And they’re probably right. But …,” he wondered how to explain this. “I’m not like Mikah, so don’t let whatever shit this woman said get to you. I mean, he may be a slave for far longer than me, but these slaves are raised to be nice and sweet and harmless. And good at bookkeeping, apparently. Anyway, if you take them away from their accounts and just spread them out and fuck them … They don’t take that well. I guess, at least. Me, I was a whore even before I was a slave.” 

Duff bit his tongue. He hadn’t meant to let that tiny detail slip. 

“You’re not surprised,” he said. 

“No, Duff,” Izzy chuckled. “That was pretty much clear from the beginning. But it doesn’t change things. You were a whore, out of necessity, I suppose, but even if you did it for the fun of it, that doesn’t mean you now have to take each and every dick anybody wants to shove up your ass.”

“I don’t take anybody’s dick,” he corrected. “Just yours.” 

“Same thing, really,” Izzy gave back. 

Duff didn’t agree. 

“It means at least that I can make an informed decision about whether I want to have sex with somebody so high above myself on the power scale or not. I know what that can do to you. Even if it’s not by force, but more like … seduction. That’s where it really gets twisted, when a slave falls in love with their master. That shouldn’t happen. And don’t worry, it won’t happen to me. You have to be able to separate body and emotions to get through it, and I know how to do that. I know I’m here to provide a service, and not because I’m the love of your life or some shit. So, yes, it may be fucked up, but, no, you don’t have to feel bad. I enjoy this … this … fucked up shit between us. I don’t want to miss it. ‘cause you’re a damn good lay, Izzy, and it would be a pity if I had to do without you.”

Izzy looked a bit taken aback at that and Duff wondered if he had said something wrong. He had meant it as a compliment, but a slave probably shouldn’t call his master a good lay, not even if he was. And then there was of course Izzy’s issue with compliments in general. 

He had almost mentioned, that time in Izzy’s bed was the highlight of his day, but he had this niggling feeling that it wouldn’t work well with the ‘not falling in love’ part. 

Duff was well aware that he was at least a tiny little bit in love with Izzy, scratch that, head over heels, but if he made that public knowledge, Izzy would put an end to it faster than a quickie on a public toilet. So hopefully he had at least quieted any qualms and doubts and made it clear that he was up to his part of the deal.

“Ok,” Izzy said, and once again he was scrutinizing that spot on the wall behind Duff’s shoulder. “What I had planned for you was just… I made you work hard today. And you got more done than I would have thought and I wanted to do something nice for you. You told me yesterday that I don’t know how to accept nice things, but honestly? You can’t fucking accept somebody pleasuring you yourself. Each time I try to give back a bit, you do whatever you can to turn things around.”

Duff thought about it and he had to admit, it was kind of true. If he wasn’t working his ass off in bed, he instantly worried that he wasn’t doing enough. But there was of course the pleasure of pleasuring somebody, and he realized to his chagrin, that he had deprived Izzy of that experience. 

But now, that he understood the reasoning behind the request to stay immobile, he could probably deliver. No, not probably, he would deliver. This was his night of making up for previous mistakes, after all. 

“We can try again,” he said. 

“You don’t have to …,” Izzy started, but Duff just leant forward and kissed him. 

“I want to. I just got startled, that’s all. I’ll lie still and I’ll keep my hands above my head.”

Izzy nodded hesitantly. “I’ve got an idea.” He picked up one of his million scarfs and tied it to the slave ports. 

Duff’s stomach sank. 

“I don’t think this will make it easier,” he said, already spotting the next freak out right around the corner. At least he would get some practice about saying ‘no’. 

“I’m not going to tie you up,” Izzy said. “Even I know that would be a stupid idea. You just hold on to it. Gives you something to do with your hands. Might help. Come on, try it.”

Duff wasn’t so sure, but he lay back and reached hesitantly for the ends of the scarf. 

Izzy stretched out next to him and ran a finger over his cheek. 

“You can let go anytime you want. You can jump up and run screaming out of the cabin anytime you want. But I’d really like you to try not to. Can you do that for me?”

Duff wrapped the ends around his hands and nodded. 

“Good. Here’s how it’s gonna happen. You don’t have to worry about anything. I won’t suddenly push in or do some shit like that. In fact, you’ll be begging me to push in or it won’t happen at all. Which reminds me, feel free to make requests.”

“Ok,” Duff said, getting more and more unhappy with the situation. 

Izzy, still fully clothed, lying next to him and kindly explaining how sex worked, was not what he had envisioned for the night. 

“Can you take off your clothes?” he asked. “It’s kind of weird like this.” 

He got a smile as reply and Izzy stripped. Duff watched him do it, not like they normally did, getting rid of clothing as fast as possible, but slowly, piece by piece; not exactly putting on a show, but still giving him the chance to admire what was revealed. Just because he had asked him to.

“Better?” Izzy asked, when he joined him again. 

“Much.” Duff licked his lips. He knew what they would normally be doing now. Definitely not staring at each other as if this was their first time.

‘Lie still,’ he reminded himself and grabbed the scarf a little tighter. “You can get on top of me,” he said. “Really. Full body contact and anything. Don’t make this weirder as it already is, please.”

Izzy laughed softly. “Ok,” he said and straddled his hips once more. “Good like this?”

Duff nodded and Izzy started again where he had left of, kissing, nibbling, tweaking, nipping. Duff closed his eyes and tried to just get lost in the sensations. After a while it worked. He tried to guess where Izzy would go next and let out a few very undignified squeaks when teeth suddenly worried at areas he hadn’t expected, but it became … fun. 

There was one concept behind the seemingly random path Izzy made over his body: moving south. Duff grew hard in anticipation. He expected a hand on his dick any moment, but it wouldn’t come. Instead there was suddenly … tongue. Duff shuddered. Izzy had never sucked him off so far and surely this was just a tease, he wouldn’t ... The tongue was just the beginning, soon there were also lips and the very, very careful scratching of teeth and Duff clawed his hands into the scarf for dear life. 

“Like this,” Izzy asked, still sounding far too cautious for Duff’s taste. 

His dick was in somebody else’s mouth, what was there not to like? 

He wanted to reassure Izzy somehow, let him know that he didn’t need to obtain approval every step of the way, and suddenly he knew how. He took a deep breath, wondered again if it was really a good idea, and then he groped around over his head for the slave dock. It took a bit of fiddling, before he heard the faint ‘click’ and his shackle connected. The other one followed and when both hands were securely locked, panic flared up again. Duff fought it down. He had done this himself. More, one word would be enough and Izzy would set him free. 

It took Izzy a moment before he realized what had happened. To Duff’s disappointment he let his dick slip out of his mouth and joined him upstairs again. 

“This is shit, Duff,” he said and reached up to release him. “Tying up a slave, even for fun, that’s not a good idea.”

“Leave it,” Duff replied. His heart was racing, but he refused to give in to his fears. He wouldn’t. Not this time. “My decision.”

“Stupid decision.” Izzy propped himself up on his elbow next to him, his other hand tracing circles over Duff’s stomach. 

“Still my decision,” Duff insisted. “I trust you. You said you won’t do anything I don’t want, so where’s the problem? Not trusting yourself?”

Izzy sighed. “Don’t get me started. OK, for now. Because I like your bossy side. You promise to say ‘no’ the moment it gets too much?”

“Yes,” Duff said. He would. He was just determined to not let it get too much. 

He expected Izzy to return to cock sucking, but he didn’t. Instead he brushed his thumb over Duff’s lips before he pushed two fingers into his mouth. 

“Get them nice and wet for me,” he whispered between gentle nips at Duff’s earlobe. His voice had turned from nice and normal to dark and a bit menacing all in an instant. “’cause these will go into you in a moment and if you don’t suck enough … bad luck. It’s all the lube you’re gonna get.”

Duff gave Izzy a shocked glance, but Izzy just looked back expectantly and Duff relaxed. He was pushing it, trying to get another ‘no’ out of him. Yeah, fuck, he could stick that wherever he wanted because it wouldn’t be happening. He would see this through with his hands all tied up, and he would fucking well enjoy it. 

“As you’re so adventurous tonight,” Izzy continued, while Duff sucked obediently at his fingers, “change of plan. How about we do things a bit differently. Tonight, I won’t get you quite as ready as I normally do. Just a tiny bit shy of comfortable, so when I get into you, you’ll feel me every millimetre of the way.”

Duff’s breath hitched in his throat. If Izzy intended to scare him, he achieved quite the opposite. He had always been a fan of Izzy’s line of dirty thinking, and every word seemed to go right through to his dick instead of his brain. 

“You said I can make requests,” Duff rasped, trying to get his head clear for a moment. 

“Sure.” Izzy looked up, one hand already moving to Duff’s shackle to free him. 

“Get back to sucking my dick,” Duff said sweetly. “Please.”

Izzy laughed like he very rarely did, open and uninhibited, and it made his face light up just the way Duff had described to him the evening before. 

He did get back, but he also did shove his fingers up Duff’s ass without preamble. Duff hissed at the sudden burn, his back arching off the bed for a second, but then he sank back into the moist bliss that was Izzy’s mouth. He belatedly realized that Izzy had two hands. 

In addition to all those other sensations, he now also had fingers around his balls, squeezing just a tiny bit more than was entirely comfortable, but never crossing the border to painful. What the fuck was that man playing at tonight? Deciding that it was not up to him to determine which path they were going to take, he gave himself over to whatever was happening. Izzy knew him well, Duff realized, pushing one button after the other, making him sigh and hiss and even let out the occasional shriek. 

He was just about to mutter a warning about impending ejaculation in a place Izzy might not want him to come, when the bastard let go of everything …. everything! … at the same time and was back with his mouth against his ear. 

“You have to make a choice now, Duff,” he said and Duff tried to listen through the rush in his ears. A choice? He couldn’t make a choice. He could barely think, how was he supposed to make a choice? 

“Duff? You with me?”

“What choice?” Duff brought out. Did they really have to play another round of twenty questions? Now? When he didn’t have enough blood in his brain to remember if he had a middle name or not. 

“You can come in my mouth,” Izzy said and Duff nodded fervently, “but then you’d be all spent when I get into you … and I will get into you. I’ll fuck you so deep and hard, you will never forget it. Or you’ll enjoy all that together with me and come into my hand. While I’m still inside you.” Duff nodded fervently again. 

“What is it, sugar,” Izzy asked patiently, while one finger ran up and down Duff’s dick. 

Had Izzy lost his mind? How was he supposed to decide that? 

“Can’t I come into your mouth, while you fuck me?” he brought out, trying to get his mind unscrambled. 

Izzy chuckled softly. “Sorry, baby, but I’m not that flexible. Make up your mind.” 

“Fuck me,” he finally said, because he did want to be there for it until the very end. “Make it last as long as possible.”

“As you wish,” Izzy replied.

He pushed Duff’s legs apart and got between them, propping himself up on his elbows, closer this time than he normally would, until skin brushed against skin in hot, wet strokes, and … no, the bastard was starting at his neck again. 

Gentle nips once more, far too light to do anything but annoy, and then, all of a sudden, Izzy sucked skin between his teeth and Duff shrieked out at the sudden pain. He jolted and tore at his shackles and slumped back in surrender. He was being marked, he realized through the haze that his mind had become. For everybody to see, once he left this room. If he would even leave it alive. At the moment he wasn’t so sure about that. 

Izzy took his time about placing his hickey right, probably making sure it would be well visible for at least a week. Duff just let his head sink to the side and allowed it. Then he moved on to the other side of his neck, and slowly, slowly made his way down again. How often had they played this game tonight? Far too often.

His nipples were getting tender from all the attention they were receiving, his belly was suffering under Izzy’s teeth, until he was once more at his dick, licking, sucking and … hadn’t they just decided differently? Duff couldn’t remember and if he was honest, he didn’t care. He could just as well come in Izzy’s mouth. 

Fingers were back up his ass, and despite the previous threat, they did come with a decent amount of lube. But when Izzy’s mouth left him high and dry again, and he felt instead the head of his dick nudge against his entrance, he did realize that he had come true on another promise. He wasn’t properly stretched. 

Duff squeezed his eyes shut and tried to relax more, but it was useless, it hurt as fuck. 

“Izzy?” he whispered. “Stop. Please.”

“Just stop or out?” Izzy asked back. 

Duff thought a moment. “Just stop. Gimme … gimme…”

“Yeah,” Izzy whispered. “Everything.” 

He wrapped a hand around Duff’s dick and stroked him gently until the pain subsided. 

“I think you can…,” Duff gasped, but Izzy didn’t go much further. He just rocked back and forward, half an inch in, half an inch out, until Duff felt something just give and open up enough to let him in. 

He did feel Izzy push in every millimetre of the way, just like he had predicted, and he loved every one of them. 

“Fuck,” he wheezed, when Izzy was in to the hilt. “You promised I’d come.”

“You asked me to make you last,” Izzy gave back with a light laugh. “Just following your directions.”

“Yeah, stop doing that,” Duff brought out while he tried to not completely lose his mind. “You’re the captain, you’re supposed to make the decisions. Why do you even fucking listen to me?”

“All right,” Izzy said, really laughing now. “If you want to hand over … as I said, I’m here to please.”

And with that he just ploughed in. Duff’s previous idea about lasting through all of it turned out to be a bit on the ambitious side. He didn’t manage more than about half a dozen strokes, then he all but exploded into Izzy’s hand. He fell back and lay still, a boneless heap of muscles and nerve endings, while Izzy too his sweet time before he finished inside him. 

He only realized that it was apparently over, when Izzy was back to nuzzling his ear and his neck and all those other areas, he was so eminently enamoured with. 

“Free me?” Duff asked and tucked lightly at his shackles. 

Izzy reached up and opened the fastenings. He sighed when he fingered Duff’s hands. 

“Should have gotten some padding under the shackles,” he said. “Must still be somewhere, from the time when we had to cuff Axl about every second day.”

Duff looked at his wrists and shrugged. “There’ll be some bruising, but nothing bad.”

“Yeah, and Slash will give me the evil eye,” Izzy added. “And you can explain this to Axl, ‘cause I won’t.”

Duff slapped his hands over his face. “God, please, not again,” he muttered. “I guess he’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it.”

“Probably for the best.” 

Izzy brushed a hand through his hair and when Duff looked at him, there was such a soft smile that it made him all gooey inside. He was smiling back before he remembered that they were not a lovey-dovey couple, but just fucking each other’s brain out for the heck of it. 

“It’s a fucking waste of precious keepsakes,” Izzy said while running a finger through the various body fluids on Duff’s belly, “but we should probably get rid of this. I could just lick the worst of it off, but I can say from experience, you’ll feel better in the morning if you get cleaned properly.”

“Yeah, good idea, I suppose.” Duff sat up, only to flop back into the pillows again. “Or not,” he said. “I’m not sure my legs will carry me. I opt for licking.”

Izzy shook his head. “Stay,” he said. “It’s your night of being spoiled, I can just as well clean you up.”

He returned with a wet towel and Duff parted his legs and rolled over when prompted, until he was at least halfway clean. 

“Can I stay?” Duff asked. “Since I’m not sure I can walk all the way back to my cabin? I might fall and hit my head and then you’d be short of a worker tomorrow.”

“Why not, I guess,” Izzy replied and Duff found himself pulled into his arms. “Let’s just not make a habit out of it.”

“Of course not,” Duff replied. “Just tonight.”

“Yeah,” Izzy replied. “Just tonight.”


	26. Ten out of Ten

This time the bed appeared even smaller to Slash. Axl had shifted to the side as soon as he had entered, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t avoid touching him at least every now and then. Personally, he didn’t mind, but he knew how uncomfortable it made Axl feel and he was trying to be considerate. The admission to his bed had been a huge concession in itself, and he really didn’t want to be tossed out again. Which he would be, if he didn’t get his stupid limbs under control. 

In fact, he started wondering if giving up his cabin had been such a great idea. They should have stuffed the whole bunch into the slave cupboards, just like Izzy had suggested. Now Lis and Aino, his ex and his … ex, were probably having sex in his bed. Given that one of his exes was also Izzy’s ex, it made the whole affair almost incestuous. He would have to burn the sheets when he got it back. And the blanket, the pillows and the whole mattress. Screw that, he would move into a slave cupboard himself before he took that cabin back. 

At least they weren’t as loud as Duff and Izzy. This was a spaceship. The cabins may be interspersed by storage units, but walls were thin, and usually those two idiots showed some minimum of concern for other people’s nightly rest.

Not tonight. 

He hadn’t known that Duff was a screamer, but scream he did. Twice already. The first time, Axl had looked up, that little wrinkle of worry appearing between his eyebrows, but he had settled and returned to reading on his screen. So why did Duff have to do it a second time?

“Axl?” Slash asked. Axl was vibrating, his muscles trembling under the goose bumps on his skin. It wasn’t cold, they had repaired the heating system earlier that morning. “You OK?”

“Yes,” Axl replied, staring at the wall as if it would turn transparent if he only concentrated hard enough. 

They were sitting so close that their arms were brushing against each other, and therefore Slash decided he could risk it. Slowly, giving Axl time to move away, he lifted one arm and put it lightly around his shoulder. 

“People sometimes scream during sex,” he said. 

“Yeah, I know.” Axl’s face shifted into another shade of haunted ghost child. 

“No, not in pain. In extasy. From … uhm … too much stimulation. Screams of pleasure.”

Axl looked as if he had lost his mind. 

“Really,” he impressed. “Happens.”

“Did you ever scream from too much pleasure?”

“Actually, yeah, I did.” Hadn’t happened that often, but it wasn’t a lie. 

“No!” Axl said, but his mind was at least for the moment turned away from the newest round of Duff/Izzy drama. “Why?”

Slash shrugged. “Just couldn’t stay silent anymore, I guess.”

“Really, Slash, that’s ridiculous.” 

“OK,” Slash replied. “Think about it. The two of them, they’ve been doing the deed like … how long now? And … and you’ve even seen them together, so what is more likely? Duff howling in pain or in pleasure?”

“Hm,” Axl made, but the trembling had stopped and his face looked less ghost-like. He just didn’t want to admit that he had been wrong. “As fucked up as they both are…,” 

He tipped his head until it rested against Slash’s shoulder. Surprised, Slash held still. Sure, Axl sometimes, very rarely, cuddled with Izzy, but he always stopped abruptly when somebody caught him doing it. Allowing physical contact with somebody who was not Izzy might be new, but it wasn’t a bad thing in the whole Axl-development. It was probably a good idea to encourage it as much as possible. 

“You really scream during sex?” Axl asked. 

“Sometimes,” Slash admitted. “Read me some more of that book?”

“You don’t care about it,” Axl replied. 

“Yes, I do!” Slash protested. “It’s really good. I like it.”

“Yeah? What’s it about?”

“Uhm. Some big fish,” Slash replied. 

Axl snorted. “Something else.”

“I should call you Ishmael.”

This time he got a giggle as reply. “So, you did listen. For a whole sentence.”

Yes, the book was some weird shit, but Axl liked weird shit and it would keep him from waiting for more sounds out of Izzy’s cabin. And there would be more sounds, simply because Lis had uttered that comment about rape and sex with slaves. Izzy would make the whole ship listen, just to prove that he had the biggest dick of all of them. Duff would walk funny for days as living, breathing proof of Izzy’s victory in this insane pissing contest. Sometimes Izzy’s personal brand of stubbornness was driving him up the wall. 

“Read?” he repeated. 

“OK.” Axl sat up straight again, but Slash left his arm around his shoulder. Axl snuggled against him, leaning into his embrace as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“No man prefers to sleep two in a bed,” he said. 

“Oh, come on!” Slash exclaimed. “We slept two in a bed just fine last night!” In fact, he had saved Axl from his nightmare, and now he was relegated to the floor again?

“That’s the book!” Axl snapped. “Pay attention! No man prefers to sleep two in a bed. In fact, you would a good deal rather not sleep with your own brother. I don’t know how it is, but people like to be private when they are sleeping. And when it comes to sleeping with an unknown stranger, in a strange inn, in a strange town, and that stranger a harpooneer, then your objections indefinitely multiply.”

“Good thing I’m not a harpooneer then,” Slash said. 

“You’re no stranger either,” Axl conceded. 

“No, I’m not,” Slash agreed. 

Funnily, his objections against this arrangement didn’t multiply, but diminished, the more time they spent like this. He had been sure that Axl would drive him crazy, but instead he was warm and comfortable against him. His voice was astonishingly soothing in his ear, and the roll of the old-fashioned sentences made him sleepy. 

He wished he could lie down and close his eyes, but that would have meant letting go of Axl. In addition, he should better stay awake until Duff had screamed himself hoarse and didn’t cause any more bouts of worry. It was OK. It was still early and he could sacrifice a couple hours of sleep. 

After a while Axl started to rub his head against his shoulder like a cat and it took Slash a while to recognize the reason behind the movement. 

“Do they itch?” he asked.

“A bit,” Axl admitted. “No, don’t…” he said hastily, when Slash pulled the bandana off his head. 

“I’ve seen them before,” Slash said. “And you have to take this thing off eventually or it will coalesce with your head.”

“I take it off under the shower,” Axl replied, but he made no moves to get the bandana back. Slash dropped it onto the floor next to the bed. 

“Keep reading,” Slash said and then started to rub his blunt fingertips over Axl’s head the way he had seen Izzy do it. 

When his finger stumbled over one of the buttons for the first time, Axl stiffened and his breath hitched a little. For a moment Slash wondered if it was too much, but then Axl resumed his readings and Slash massaged the scalp around it in a tiny circle. He worked himself forward from one electrode to the next, searching for them under the hair, scratching lightly over the skin around them, until he had made his way once around Axl’s head. When he was done, he started new. 

+++

Duff woke once more in Izzy’s bed. It was turning into a habit, he realized, and if he wanted to keep his cover of being very much not in love, he had to make sure, he returned to his own bed now and then. 

If only it didn’t feel so good to wake up surrounded by Izzy’s scent and Izzy’s warmth and … Ok, maybe the pain in his ass wasn’t as comfortable. But if he had returned to his own bed, he would have woken with the same pain, just minus all the other enjoyments. 

He stood up and padded into the bathroom. Just leaving wasn’t in the book this time, he needed cold water in his face to wake up. On his way he checked the clock on the intercom and winced. Usually he was up at least half an hour earlier. 

Eyes half shut he stumbled over to the sink and held his head under the tap. The water was brutally cold, but it helped a little. He straightened again and looked into a mirror. There was … he wiped his hair back and inspected his neck. There wasn’t only one hickey, he counted at least four. Two more which might or might not be visible from under his shirt collar. He would have to borrow one of Izzy’s scarfs. The one they had used yesterday evening. Yeah, and then it would get caught in some part of machinery down in the engine room and strangle him. 

He couldn’t even pretend the marks were part of his fading bruises. In the glaring light from the bathroom ceiling they stood out fresh and proud and purply red. Maybe he could apply Slash’s tactic of hiding stuff behind hair. He tossed his mop forward and checked. It might work if he ran around looking at his feet all the time, which was after all proper slave behaviour. Or he could just give up and wear his new marks of ownership with pride. Which had probably been Izzy’s intention right from the beginning, for not for one second did Duff believe that this was incidental. 

He collected some more water in his hands and almost recoiled at the state his wrists were in. Not only bruising, but full-fledged abrasions around the edges of the cuffs. When had he even pulled this hard? He couldn’t remember. It definitely hadn’t hurt. Or, yes, it had maybe, but in this delicious, arousing way that made coming just one step harder. 

Just to be sure he checked over the rest of his body. His nipples were sore, but those at least wouldn’t be visible. Neither would be the imprints of fingers over his hipbones. Or all the other small suction- and bitemarks all over his upper body. And his thighs. And then there was of course the persistent throb in his ass that reminded him that, yes, prepping your partner was usually a good idea. 

Duff didn’t consider himself to be a prude. He wasn’t exactly shy either, and if there were only Slash and Axl, he would laugh it all off. But the ship was full of strangers, and he would have to walk out there, looking like the epitome of a thoroughly debauched bed slave. Adding insult to injury, if he remembered correctly, he hadn’t been exactly silent through the whole sexual excess either. 

If Izzy wanted to be woken with freshly brewed coffee, there was a high chance that today he would get it right into his face. 

With a huff, he returned to the bedroom and noticed that Izzy was awake and getting dressed. Good for him, it would spare him being dowsed in hot beverages. 

“Morning,” Izzy said with the same soft smile he had bestowed on him the evening before, and Duff felt his anger melt. It wasn’t really justified anyway. He had managed to put himself into chains all on his own, Izzy had just played along. 

“Morning,” he replied and looked for his own clothes.

He needed to keep some spares in here, he decided. Or get dressed in next day’s clothes before he came. He lost everything within a few minutes anyway. He was just hopping around on one leg to get into his pants, wondering how sweaty yesterday’s shirt would be, when there was suddenly loud yelling from outside. Metal crashed and clattered, more people yelled and then there were the tell-tale high notes of Axl’s fury. 

Izzy ran. Duff scrambled to get into his pants and, not bothering with anything else, just followed after him. The commotion led to the kitchen, where they ran into … everybody else. 

Axl stood with his back to the counter, face red, eyes wide, breath coming in heavy gulps and the big chef’s knife in his hand. Jari was on the floor, crashed against one of the benches, surrounded by what was probably the entire content of the cutlery drawer. He tried to scramble further backwards, but there was no room, and he was unable to get out of Axl’s reach. 

Izzy pushed through the gaggle of people without granting Jari as much as a glance. Slowly, oh yes, Duff knew that way of moving, he walked over to the counter. 

“Axl?” he said softly. 

“I’m OK,” Axl replied, and Duff let his breath go in relief. Axl’s voice was calm and clipped and nothing like the confused timbre it obtained when he was close to a snap. “That bastard tried to feel me up.”

“Did he now?” Izzy asked and leant his back against the counter, right next to him. 

“I only brushed against him!” Jari replied. “This room is tiny, couldn’t be helped.”

“You pinched my ass, you asshole!” Axl yelled, still waving the knife around. 

“Did you?” Izzy asked. 

“No! And what, if I did?” Jari yelled back. “He’s a slave, he should be able to handle a bit of fondling.”

Axl made moves to lurch at him, but Izzy held him back with one grip around his arm. His hold on the knife tightened, but apart from that he relented. 

“Yeah, looks like he isn’t, huh?” 

“Fuck, Jeff!” Jari snapped, getting back on his feet. “What are you playing at? He attacked me.”

“I defended myself, you pisser!” Axl spat.

“You know,” Izzy said, running his hand soothingly up and down Axl’s arm, “I thought you’d learned something the last time Axl beat you up. But apparently not. And I really didn’t think I’d have to add more rules to the list, but here they are. Especially for you. No touching of my slaves. None at all. No friendly patting of any body parts, not accidentally brushing against them, nothing. In fact, as you pointed out, this is a small ship and rooms are narrow. So, whenever you notice one of them entering a room, it’s your cue to leave. You meet them in the corridor, you walk all the way back until you find an empty room and let them pass. Got it?”

“What? You tell me I should … should …” his face was turning red with anger. 

“Get out of their way. And as we are about to have breakfast, I guess it’s time for you to find a nice, quiet corner and wait until we have finished.”

“Fuck you, Jeff!” 

Jari walked up to him until he was almost toe to toe with Izzy. He was taller, Duff noticed, definitely burlier, but Izzy didn’t even tense. He just stood there, still brushing over Axl’s arm, and his state of total relaxation was more provocative than any amount of body tension could have been. 

Duff unobtrusively pushed himself closer to the scene. He noticed that Slash was doing just the same. Axl was still clutching the knife and if Jari did anything stupid now, not even Izzy would be able to prevent bloodshed. 

“Don’t give me this holier than thou attitude. Everybody heard what you did to your bitch last night and …” he pointed at Duff, “… everybody can clearly see it, too, so don’t pretend your slaves are too good for entertainment.”

“That’s enough,” Slash suddenly said. He shouldered his way past Duff and grabbed Jari’s arm. “You heard the captain, out!”

“Don’t touch me, …” Jari rounded in on Slash, but Slash had years of Axl-experience. He had Jari in a headlock so fast, Duff barely had time to blink, and then he marched him out of the kitchen and down the corridor until they reached the first of the slave cupboards. Jari was still cursing and struggling when Slash pushed him in and locked the door behind him. 

“Fuck!” he spat, when he returned to the kitchen. “I can’t believe the bastard went that far.”

“Yeah, I can,” Izzy muttered. 

Axl still looked shaken, but when Slash reached for the knife, he gave it up without a struggle. Slash tossed it into the sink. 

“What now?” Duff asked. “I mean…” 

Izzy looked him up and down with interest, and Duff realized what exactly he was displaying in his still half naked state. 

“How about you get dressed, huh?” 

“I’d … better,” he mumbled and fled the scene. 

When he returned, Izzy or Slash or both had cleaned up the kitchen, had made tea for Axl and sat left and right off him. 

“Where’s …,” Duff started.

“Told them to take their breakfast to the sitting room,” Slash said. “At the moment, I can’t take any of them.”

“Now you start to understand why I feel about them the way I do,” Izzy muttered into his own cup. “Coffee’s still in the pot.” 

Duff got himself a mug and sat down on one of the free benches. Slash and Axl were sharing one, despite not having to. 

“You OK, Axl?” He still looked a bit shaken to Duff. 

“I’m not a fucking porcelain doll,” Axl mumbled. “Anyway, I should rather ask you that question.”

“Me?” Duff asked confused before the lightbulb went on. “Oh, yes, yes, I’m A-OK.”

“Yeah, about that.” Slash grabbed Duff’s hand and held it up. “Really, chief? At least wait until his old bruises are healed before you put new ones on him. And keep it down a bit, would you? Closing an eye was pretty much impossible last night.”

“That might have kind of been my idea,” Duff said. 

“Yours!” Slash exclaimed. “Kid, why are all exceptionally stupid ideas always yours?”

Duff had started to ask himself that question a long time ago. 

“It was …uhm,” what was the word? “Hot,” he finished lamely. 

“That it was,” Izzy agreed. 

“Sorry about the noise,” Duff added. 

Slash let go of his hand and buried his face in his arms instead.

“Was it also Duff’s idea to cover him in bitemarks?” he asked when he came up again. “And turn it into a spectacle for the whole ship to enjoy? Or was this just part of your ‘I’m the captain, I do what I want’ ego trip?”

Izzy was secretly amusing himself and Duff thought he could at least try to look contrite. 

“It’s not my fault he was prancing around half naked this morning,” he said with a shrug. “Not that I had any objections to that,” he added with a smile that made Duff consider drastic measures. 

Where had Axl put the knife? And why was he always torn between killing Izzy and laying the world down at his feet? 

“I wasn’t prancing,” he said, just because he had to say something to save his dignity. “And I’ll keep my mouth shut next time.”

“Oh no, you won’t,” Izzy cut in on his honourable intention to not disturb his shipmates’ sleep. “Don’t let anybody tell you shit, Duff. As Slash said, my ship, and I like making you scream.”

“Izzy!” Slash groaned. “Please.”

Now Axl reached for Duff’s hand and examined it carefully. “You sure you enjoyed this?” he asked, but there was no suspicion in his voice. Just bewilderment. 

Duff shrugged. “Not every day and not as an isolated incident, but … as part of the package? Now and then!” He gave Izzy a pointed look at that. “Yeah. Was good.” 

“I’m not going to even try to pretend I understand that,” Axl said. 

Duff wanted to pull out his hair, but he needed it to cover his hickeys. He didn’t understand it either. On the one hand, since his enslavement, nothing triggered panic attacks like being immobilized. On the other hand, just overcoming that fear, trusting that Izzy would still take care of him, that even all those little pains and aches he inflicted would never grow into more than just that, had been intoxicating. The perfect adrenaline storm, the best high he’d ever had since the law had forced him into a drug free existence. 

“Can we please change the topic?” he asked, not willing to touch that bit of personal business with a ten-foot pole. “For example, what are we doing about … this newest issue.”

“You mean Jari running around molesting people?” Izzy asked. “For today he stays where he is.”

“In the cupboard?” Duff asked. “There isn’t even light in there.”

“Who cares?” Slash asked back. “I agree. Cupboard.”

“Axl?” Izzy asked, and Axl predictably nodded. “If I had a collar for him, I’d set up a reverse tracker that gives him a hit every time he comes nearer than six feet to any of you, but I don’t. So, we have to make sure he learns his lesson. I’ll get him a bottle of water later. And another one to pee into and then he can think about what he did wrong.”

Slash chuckled. His face even obtained an expression of glee, Duff noticed. 

“Axl,” Izzy added, “for the record, you handled that really well.”

“I did?” Axl asked. “I thought you would be … uhm.”

“Would what?” Izzy asked. 

“You don’t like it, if I throw shit. I thought you’d be angry.”

“What, because you defended yourself against assault and managed that without killing anybody? Making enough of a noise so that everybody was aware of what was happening? Making sure he can’t fuck with you ‘cause he’s absolutely no match for you? That’s perfect, Axl. Not so long ago we would have had to deal with a dead body. You put him into his place, and you scared him enough that he hopefully won’t try again. All around, ten out of ten!”

Axl blushed and his lips twitched upwards a little, the previous spooky expression fading. 

Slash casually draped an arm around Axl’s shoulder and hugged him for a second. That was new, Duff realized. And even newer that Axl allowed it. 

“I guess you need to ask Aino about that amazing plan of hers,” he said “‘cause we need to get them all off the ship as fast as possible or there will be carnage. I’m not so sure that Jari won’t try anymore shit. He seems the type to not take such an insult with grace.”

“I don’t have to ask her,” Izzy said, sipping his coffee. “I know what her plan is.”

“You talked to her?” Slash asked. 

“No. There is just one way to make it past my folks. I return as the repentant son and promise to do my duty for clan and galaxy.”

“You said they’d hand you over to her family,” Axl stated. 

“Yeah, but not if she comes with me and tells them a story about how we happened to run into each other and how she made me recognize the errors of my ways and how we decided to return to the bosom of the family together. And of course, how we are now all dedicated to making little space gipsies. 

Then, after a period of being closely supervised - because I ran once, I might run again – there might … and might is the apt word here … be a chance to slip through. Would probably even work if it was only Lis and Mikah she tried to push over the border to Goral, ‘cause nobody will care about them. But as she wants to go, too …

It’s also the reason why she needs me and not just some random maverick captain. She runs into my clan, they’ll send her back to her family to make up for the perceived shame to the Isbell name. First, I ran and then they lost her. She needs me and our combined repentance to stay near enough to the border.”

Axl gave him an incredulous look. “And what do we do after she has ‘slipped through’?” 

“Yeah,” Izzy agreed. “That’s the big question, innit? Even if I did care for any of the rest, that tiny point puts a huge stopper on everything. Might be that I can just bemoan the loss of my wife and leave. Might be that the old man realizes he was played and needs somebody to take it out on. Lots of ‘mights’ in her perfect plan and most of them will inconvenience me a whole lot more than they will her.”

“Awesome,” Slash said. “Fuck, I can’t think about this now. I better get some real work in. You guys coming?”

Axl nodded, but when Duff wanted to follow, Izzy grabbed his wrist. 

“Have breakfast first,” he said. “Got a bit forgotten between all this.”

Duff wasn’t hungry, but he didn’t feel like starting work either, so he took the reprieve he got. To his surprise Izzy didn’t leave, but got himself another mug of coffee and watched him eat. 

“Anything wrong?” Duff asked eventually.

Izzy picked up his wrist and fingered the bruises. 

“Slash is right, I shouldn’t have done this.”

“As far as I know I’m the one who did this,” Duff replied. “I’m not a child, Izzy. And you’re not doing things to me, like everybody seems to assume. Each time I check I find myself participating quite a bit.”

“And from this morning’s perspective, would you do this again?” Izzy asked, knocking gently onto his hand. “Or do you regret it?”

Duff shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe not everyday, ‘cause then I’d really be raw meat, but, yeah. I meant what I said. It was hot.”

“It kind of was.” Izzy ran a finger over the rim of his mug. “But this really needs to heal first. And we should dig out the padding,” he added after a while. “For the cuffs.”

“Next time,” Duff said, stifling a grin. God, he was crazy. 

“Tell me Duff,” Izzy said, finishing his coffee. “How do you feel about blindfolds?”

“If you want to wear one,” Duff gave back. “Would be a pity, ‘cause I like your eyes, but, hey, whatever floats your boat.”

Izzy grinned, but his gaze didn’t waver. He was waiting for a reply. 

“You’ll take it off if I say no?” Duff asked. 

“Of course,” Izzy replied. “I told you so the very first time. I meant it.”

Duff looked into his protein pap, feeling a bit stupid. There had been a lot of weird talk the first time and he had dismissed all of it as nonsense. Turned out, Izzy had actually meant what he’d said. 

“You didn’t believe me, did you? Not even yesterday, when you did say ‘no’. You thought I would override it, right?”

“It’s not how sex with slaves works,” Duff said softly. 

“Yeah, fuck, it’s how sex with me works,” Izzy retorted.

“I get that now,” Duff replied. “I think, it wasn’t until yesterday that I got it.”

“Yeah, guess … as long as you really got it now. If not, I’m happy to run you through it again. I can even make a chart, if it helps. In different colours.” He stood up. “Come down when you’re done here. Freezer room two is waiting.”

“You said …,”

“Just joking, kid. No ice scraping today.” 

“Izzy?” Duff asked suddenly, when Izzy was already at the door. “Will you use one of your scarfs? For the blindfold?”

Izzy startled, then he returned to the table and bowed down until his lips were against Duff’s ear. 

“If you like,” he whispered darkly, his voice going straight to Duff’s cock. 

“I would,” he replied breathlessly, while Izzy sucked at his earlobe. His scarfs would smell like him and feel like him, and it would be as if he was covering his eyes with his hand. 

“In that case … I’ll tie you up every which way you want, Duff. And I’ll use whatever material you think you might … enjoy.” Fuck, that word shouldn’t sound so deliciously dirty when it rolled off Izzy’s tongue. “Rope, leather … silk… Not sure if we have everything you want on board, but feel free to make a list. I’ll take care of it at next stop.”

“OK,” Duff breathed out, being semi hard already. 

“Good.” 

Gently Izzy bit into his ear and Duff stifled a moan. 

They were in the kitchen, he reminded himself. Everybody could just come by and given the mood Izzy was in, he wouldn’t hesitate to lie him down on the table and make yet another public display out of him. And, fuck, Izzy had just yesterday berated him about playtime and everyday life. Talk about muddying the waters again. 

Thankfully Izzy showed mercy and let him go. 

“Put something onto your bruises. And wrap them up before you come down, or you’ll get dirt into the scratches. The better you take care of them, the faster they will have healed.”

With a last wink he left and Duff was ready to drop face forward into his breakfast.


	27. Compromises

On his way down Izzy ran into Aino. 

“Get out of my way,” he snapped. 

“We need to talk, Jeff,” she said, blocking the exit. “First, how long do you want to keep Jari inside that cupboard?” 

“Dunno.” Izzy scratched his head. “How about … uhm… for as long as I feel like. Now get out of my way”

“He touched a slave’s ass, he didn’t commit murder.” 

“Don’t start or else…,” he took a deep breath to avoid flying off the handle the way Axl usually did. “Why is he even running around with you? What the fuck is he doing here? Why is he not at home torturing little animals?” 

“He’s not that bad.”

“Your word against my experience of an entire lifetime, I suppose.”

“He helped me get away. Originally the plan was that he would drop me at the next space port and return home, but … he had a little crush on me and I might have exploited that a bit.”

“Awesome,” Izzy said. “Is there anybody currently onboard this ship you didn’t have sex with?”

“Yeah, you, but that’s by no fault of mine,” she retorted. “I’m not you, Jeff. Being all on my own was scarier than I had thought. I was glad to have him along. And I found out, we work well together. OK, he’s not exactly known for his brilliance, but he grew up a lot over the last years.”

“Yeah, not enough for my taste,” Izzy said. It was as good a reason as any, he supposed, although eternal loneliness sounded a lot better than a decade with Jari. “I don’t want him near Axl ever again. He probably got it finally into his thick skull that Duff is spoken for and won’t be stupid enough to try, but if I ever find him even in Axl’s vicinity, I’ll turn him into minced meat.”

“You are aware that you’re being erratic, aren’t you? I mean, everybody has seen Duff this morning, so don’t tell me you’re all into slave-rights all of a sudden. What’s the big problem here? Are you doing them both?”

Aino yelped when Izzy’s fist connected with her chin. 

“They are mine, that’s the big problem,” Izzy growled. “Jari can get his own slave, if he wants one and I’ll give a fuck about how he treats him. As far as I know, you even have your own. Use that one and make sure he keeps his hands off my boys or I’ll throw him out into space. I’m not joking.”

“Yeah, OK.” Aino rubbed her chin. “I don’t have to pretend I understand your issues, but I’ll talk to him. Let him out now?”

“No.”

“Jeffrey…”

“No.”

“Ok,” she conceded, apparently realizing that she wasn’t helping her case by antagonizing him any further. “You’re the boss.”

“Nice of you to finally get it.” 

It wouldn’t keep her from trying to get the upper hand again as soon as she got a chance. 

“Yeah. New topic. Goral.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Listen to me first, I have a plan…,”

“I know your plan.” Izzy briefly summarized what he supposed her plan was. “Am I right?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“OK, you’re right. It’s still a good plan.”

“It’s bullshit. Just like everything here is bullshit. Like at least fifty percent of that sob story yesterday was bullshit. How many times did we have to call you out on a lie? I can’t even remember. Are there still some I didn’t catch?”

Aino’s eyes moved to the side for a second and it was all he needed to know. 

“Yeah, thought so. And that’s why I’ll do shit for you. I can’t trust you as far as I can spit. I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen. I have a delivery to make, and I won’t risk my reputation so that’s what’s on the agenda. Next destination is Chomo.”

“But that’s …”

“Pretty much in the other direction. Don’t care. It’s where we are going. Chomo’s rather wild and independent for a planet of the realm, so maybe you’ll find a solution there. If not, yeah, fuck, I don’t care, ‘cause that’s what we agreed upon. I don’t remember saying anything about taking you to Goral, so don’t pretend I did. Offer stands, you can leave the slave behind. I’ll take care of him.”

“Would you keep him here?” Aino asked. “Lis will not want him handed over to the authorities.”

Izzy sighed. “I’ll think about it. Means he will never be able to go planetside ever again. I can’t get him past customs anywhere. Not sure he will want that.”

“I know what Axl is,” Aino said. “I checked your crew list. He won’t get off the ship much either.”

That was true, of course, but Izzy still took him whenever it was possible to do so. That didn’t even touch the issue of taking Mikah on at all. He didn’t want him. He wouldn’t be any trouble, but he wouldn’t fit in either. It might, however, be a small price to pay if he got the rest of them off his ship. 

“I kept it to myself. Axl’s …uhm … origin.” 

Izzy shrugged. Axl was what he was, it made no difference. He had never seen the need to either talk or not talk about it, but he knew, of course, that for Axl it was a touchy subject. For him, Axl was Axl and that was good enough. 

“Although, might make Jari keep his hands off him,” she prodded on, as if she expected a reaction to her statement. What, gratefulness that she hadn’t outed his substandard slave?

“You can tell what you want, but if anybody gives Axl shit for what he is … I have more than just one slave cupboard. Let me go now?”

She stepped aside. “I’ll talk to Lis. Maybe I can get her to agree.”

No mentioning of talking to Mikah or, heaven forbid, asking for his opinion, Izzy noticed. Maybe he wasn’t looking forward to a lifetime of mopping floors for a new master, when they had promised him Goral. Where he would be free. There was no slavery beyond the border, at least not for those few lightyears Izzy had ever travelled into uncharted territory. 

And when had he started to be bothered by such minor details as a slave’s sensitivities? He had grown up with slaves coming and going. It was the way things were. His family had made money by buying slaves on the cheap side, training them and selling them for a profit. 

They had caught runaway slaves on their way to Goral and returned them for the finder’s reward, just the way they had returned criminals, who were trying to pass the border, for the bounty. It had all been a lucrative business, absolutely legal and left them independent enough to come and go as they wanted. 

Of course, there were those slaves who were dearer to their owners, who wouldn’t be sold, who were tasked with raising the kids, who spent their life with the clan, grew old and were taken care off until they died. Those were few, select slaves, and while Duff and Axl clearly belonged into that category, he hadn’t thought any further. They were his, they were treated well, they seemed happy. Wasn’t that enough? 

Mikah wasn’t even his, he wasn’t beaten, wasn’t mistreated, had had a relatively good life as a well-trained, expensive slave. He was an investment, not something used as a punching ball, and from what information Izzy had gleaned out of their convoluted story, he had fulfilled expectations. Even sold to a new owner, he would likely have fulfilled expectations again. His skills weren’t tied to youth and looks either, not like Duff’s. He could still be an accountant at sixty-five. He would only get better and be more valuable. 

This was the reason why Izzy felt, he had been treated unfairly. It had started with Lis insinuating herself into his life when she wasn’t even his mistress. Things like that always went pear-shaped. 

Then she had turned him against his master. He didn’t care if Riku had deserved it, it had only led to more problems. Mainly for the slave. Being sold was scary, so he got Mikah’s motivation, but making sure he would be sold into decent hands would have been the way to go. Broke or not broke, from what he had gathered, her family had been influential enough. Somebody would have shown mercy with her and bought him. 

Instead she had made promises she couldn’t really keep, driven more by the wish to keep her confidant than by what was best for him. He did give her at least some credits for trying to stick to her promise, but it had all crashed spectacularly. 

Now Mikah was a liability, the one problem they couldn’t solve. It would be interesting how much she would value this special friendship once she realized what it would cost her. And what even for? 

Mikah wasn’t like Duff, who knew what it felt like to be free, even if that bit of freedom had been under dismal conditions. He wasn’t like Axl either, whose mind rebelled against the restrictions forced upon him. She had dangled a prize before him he hadn’t even considered as achievable and wouldn’t know how to use.

What would he even do with his freedom, if thrown into the wilderness that was Goral? Duff would get along there. He could be tossed out all on his own and would muddle through somehow. Duff’s brands of expertise were in high demand at such a place. 

Axl? He wasn’t sure at all. Axl, may gripe about the structure imposed on him, but got erratic when it was missing. He would probably survive for a while by sheer savageness, and one day die a violent death. 

Mikah on the other hand? He might be nice and gentle and well trained, but Izzy would be damned if he had ever been taught independence. He would at best tag along and still be Lis’ slave. 

He reached the engine room and working shut his brain off for a while. Then they were having lunch break, all together for a change, because nobody thought about going upstairs. He watched how Axl rolled his eyes at one of Duff’s stupid jokes, how Duff stole Slash’s cookies when he wasn’t looking, how Slash and Duff tried to pull Axl into an insane discussion about which superhero would come out on top in a fight, and how they celebrated being rid of all their domestic duties for the time being. 

So far, he had contented himself with the knowledge that he couldn’t set them free. The law didn’t allow it, which was rather convenient for his case. Now he wondered, if it was possible, would he do it? And then what? Just take off the collar and hope for the best? Let them run off at next port? Send Duff home to his family? Trying to keep them onboard without knowing how to scrape enough money together and pay them? He would miss them if they left, and that moment on Loomah, when Duff was not to be found, had been one of the worst experiences of his life. But was that reason enough to keep them? 

Izzy shook his head. Thinking about ‘what ifs’ was a waste of time. They were what they were and when he watched Duff laugh hysterically about some joke, he had understood about a minute later than everybody else, then he was sure that they were as happy as they could be. Anything more was wishful thinking. 

+++

Slash wasn’t surprised when Izzy asked him to join him on the bridge at the end of shift. Duff and Axl had toddled off to torment the passengers a while ago, and so he was alone in the engine room, still needing a bit of time for himself before he went up. 

The whole situation was grating on his nerves. He was having severe difficulties to conciliate this ruthless, calculating version of Lis with the wild, adventurous girl she had been. Yes, she had always taken what she wanted and she had always had crazy ideas, now that he thought about it. He had always been willing to go along with her, getting high on their combined recklessness. 

But had she played people like that? Sometimes, if he was honest, if she couldn’t get what she wanted any other way. Only as her lover he had profited from her exploits and hadn’t cared that much. It felt different to be on the other side. 

Slash finished and made his way up to the bridge. 

“So, chief,” he said and plopped down in his seat. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Aino asked me if I would keep Mikah onboard,” he said without preamble. “Instead of handing him over for the finder’s fee.”

“Huh,” Slash made. This was a new development and he wasn’t sure one he liked. “And will you?”

“I’m asking you,” Izzy replied. 

“Me?” Slash gave him a taxing look. “You’re asking for my opinion?”

“I often ask about your opinion,” Izzy looked a little scandalized. 

“About technical shit, yeah. But you didn’t ask when Axl came, when Duff came, you don’t ask my opinion about deals, about major decisions…”

“Ok, Ok,” Izzy placated him. “I’m asking now. I will ask Duff and Axl, too, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

Slash shrugged. “What would he even do?”

Izzy snorted. “Not keeping the books, that much is clear.”

“You hold that against him? That he betrayed his master?”

Izzy took a moment to think about it. “No,” he said then. “No, I don’t. You can’t buy respect, it’s something you have to earn.”

“But you said…,”

“Yeah, I know what I said,” Izzy replied with a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t like how she was talking about Duff and Axl.”

Slash stifled a smile. “Growing soft in your old age, Iz?”

“Nah. Just … hurt pride. Our boys are trained to perfection, people are just too stupid to see that. Maybe if we get Duff to brush his hair more often.”

This time Slash was unable to keep his laughter back. 

“Back to the question,” Izzy said, chuckling himself. “Yes or no?”

Slash sighed. “I don’t want him,” he said. “But handing him over? With such a comment in his papers? Shooting him would be kinder. So … I suppose … we kind of have to.”

“Hm,” Izzy made. 

“What about you?” Slash asked. “Having another reason than the one that starts with a big ‘C’?”

Izzy showed him the finger, then started to think again. 

“I have started Duff a bit on administrative shit. He’s got quite an eye for numbers, especially given that he’s got zero formal education. I thought about training him some more.”

“No!” Slash exclaimed. “You’re not stealing my apprentice.”

“I won’t,” Izzy replied. “Which means, I have to free up some of his time. Which means somebody has to take over his domestic tasks. Which means Axl will scream blue murder if I even try to shift it on him. Which means…”

“We need somebody else.”

“Yep. And, as always, can’t afford a free worker, not even one who is completely unskilled.”

Slash scratched his head. “So that’s what you’re gonna do with Mikah? The cleaning?”

“Yep,” Izzy replied. “Not only Duff’s, but also Axl’s part. Don’t know what else to do with him, ‘cause, honestly, I don’t trust him. Not because of what he did, but because of what we’re doing to him.”

“Giving him a chance?” Slash asked. “Saving his life?”

“Yeah, might seem like that.” Izzy had that tired look again, the one Duff had managed to wipe off his face with whatever crazed sex games they had been playing. Now it was back. “But, see it from his perspective. With Axl, we pulled him right out of hell and pretty much everything we did was a step up. Fuck, remember how happy he was when I signed him up for that fucking school program?”

Slash did remember. It had been a remote program for kids who had to do their learning on space ships, similar to the one he had received himself as a child. 

Axl had been able to read and write a little bit, and without telling anybody, he had tried to read books from the library. Not knowing where to even start, he had smashed at least half a dozen screens in his frustration, until Izzy had started him on something a bit more structured.  
Yes, it had been a program for kids, but most of it was absolutely new to Axl. And kept in an easy to understand language. He had powered through the whole curriculum during his sleepless nights, and as far as Slash could tell, he had never stopped gathering information about the weirdest topics. 

“For Duff, we offered at least a better perspective than he had envisioned for himself,” Izzy went on. “Mikah? We’re destroying what little existence he’s had.”

“Not we…,”

“No, but I made the suggestion first. Might stick with him. Look, it’s not only that he’ll be demoted from doing tasks that require a bit of brainpower to getting oilstains out of our clothes. He lived planetside, he got to go outside, and Loomah is really a nice planet, once you’re away from the port.

There were other slaves like him, of the meek, friendly variety, he had company. And while your woman is not my type, Slash, sorry for that, I don’t think she would have just looked the other way if her slaves had been heavily punished. His life might have been shitty, but he had one. Here? He will never be able to leave the ship. Not ever. He will die within these walls and the best I can offer him is a bucket and a cleaning rag.”

“What’s the alternative?” Slash asked. 

Izzy shrugged. “There isn’t one. Just saying. He won’t like it. And it gets worse. There is no slavery at Goral. Lis promised him freedom, and at the first difficulty she’s petting his head and leaving him behind as unwanted slave on a grubby old space ship with … us. Being sold to whatever new owner on Loomah would have given him a better perspective.”

“She may be old, but she’s not grubby!” Slash protested. 

Izzy smiled. “No, she isn’t.” 

“I get what you mean, chief. We’ll deal, I suppose. Duff will be OK. Axl will take a bit of persuading. Letting him know he’ll get off the cleaning hook might help. And I’m not so sure Mikah will hate our guts. Yours maybe, but no the rest of us.”

“Hey!” Izzy yelled, but then he laughed. 

“Did Lis already agree to this, or was it Aino’s idea?”

“I think Aino. But Lis will agree. She’s running out of options. And she doesn’t seem to be the self-sacrificing type.”

Once upon a time Slash would have said that she’d never do it, but yesterday’s talk had cast some serious doubt onto the picture he’d had of her. 

“OK. I’ll talk to Axl tonight.”

“Yeah, about that,” Izzy said. “What’s up with you and Axl?”

“Huh?” Slash gave him a confused look. “We share a cabin. And he doesn’t sleep. Much. Means I’ve got lots of time to explain it to him.”

“Yeah, but you’re so … best buddies all of a sudden.”

“At least we don’t partake in deviant sex practices.”

“Slash…”

“I’m all for deviant sex practices,” Slash interrupted him. If he was honest, he just didn’t want to talk about the weird tenderness he felt when he and Axl cuddled up over weird books. “Just … make sure Duff really likes it and doesn’t just … dunno … indulge you.”

“Right,” Izzy sighed, but he did not fight back. Which made Slash wonder if really all was well in Duff-and-Izzy-land. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked to his own surprise. Not so long ago a question like that would have been impossible. 

“No,” Izzy said automatically. 

“Yes!” he then added with so much emphasize that Slash sat up straight. “He thinks he’s providing some kind of service, and it’s OK because he’s always been a whore and therefore it doesn’t matter and I really don’t have to worry about it.” 

It lay on Slash’s tongue to ask if that wasn’t exactly what Izzy had said himself all those eons ago when Duff had come on board, but he was smart enough to just wait. 

“And…” he prompted, when nothing followed. 

“And that’s not what I want,” Izzy snapped. “Anymore,” he then added softly. 

“Yeah, did you … dunno … tell him?”

“No!” Izzy looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “I’m not putting any emotional pressure on him. He said he likes things as they are, so that’s how they will remain. End of story.”

Slash rolled his eyes. He wondered if he should tell Izzy that Duff was totally, hopelessly, beyond redemption in love with him. If it weren’t for that master/slave problem, they would have all the prerequisites for one of those sickly-sweet in love fairy-tale couples, but it was probably better to let him find out on his own. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long, because it slowly but surely became painful to watch. 

“You could try to … ehm … court him,” he suggested, just to see Izzy’s expression. 

Izzy delivered. A priceless mixture of horror and revulsion flashed over his face, followed by something that could only be interpreted as murderous intent. 

“Back to you and Axl,” he said darkly. “Why are you suddenly best buddies?”

“We always got along,” Slash said with a shrug. 

Izzy gave him a disbelieving look, which was unfair because after the first few weeks … or months … or, Ok, maybe one or two years, they had gotten along. In fact, they had bonded over Izzy’s burned back. Izzy hadn’t been there for that, so maybe he hadn’t noticed. 

“I don’t know,” Slash said. “I think he’s mellowing.” Just like you, he added silently. 

“He is,” Izzy agreed. 

“I blame it on Duff. It’s the first time he’s got someone to … dunno … care for somehow. He’s acting like a big brother. I think it’s doing him good.”

Izzy hummed his agreement. “Maybe we should get him a cat. To foster his nurturing side.”

“A ginger one,” Slash agreed. 

“With long, sharp claws.”

“And a really loud meow. You know, a cat would really be nice.”

“Don’t get started,” Izzy groaned. “The ship is fuller than I like. And if we get a pet, it will be a dog.”

“You’ve already got Duff, that’s like having a dog.”

“I want a fierce one, not an overgrown puppy,” Izzy protested. “One I can turn at stupid passengers.”

“For that you’ve got Axl. Which reminds me. Jari still in the cupboard?”

Izzy pulled a face. 

Slash laughed. “You forgot about him, didn’t you?” 

“It’s nice to forget about him.” Izzy let his head drop back against the headrest. “I’ll take care of it later. After dinner.”


	28. Scar Tissue

It was the first chance in quite a while that Axl found the time to help Duff with dinner. He had missed it, he realized and while they weren’t as carefree with all those people around as they had been before, when the domestic corridor had been theirs for most of the afternoon, it still brought back some of their earlier camaraderie. 

“Did you even manage to try out the drum kit, yet?” he asked when Duff tapped a spoon rhythmically against the counter. 

“No!” Duff replied. “I didn’t even set it up, yet. Really, when we’re done downstairs, all I want is crawl into bed and sleep.”

“Whose bed?” Axl asked and Duff rammed his elbow into his side. 

“Where is the freaking paring knife?” Duff said. “Whoever put the cutlery back has no idea about what belongs where.” 

“That would have been Izzy,” Axl said. He revelled a little in the memory. 

Sure, it hadn’t been nice. When the actual groping had happened, he had for a moment feared he would go into rage because there had been so much fury flooding his brain. He had forgotten how it felt to be in that state of mind all the time. 

But then it had cooled down to a simmer, one he had under control, and that had been one hell of a heady feeling. Yes, he, Axl, fuck up of fuck ups, had had the situation under control. Control! It was so different from just barely saving his skin with the help from whatever aggression he could muster. 

Then Izzy had been there, backing him up, and then Slash had dragged that pisser out of the room and that had made him feel even better. He had beaten somebody up, and they had just agreed with him. 

He wouldn’t have needed them to make him tea afterwards or coddle him the way they had done, Izzy’s approval had been enough to put the world right. He could take care of himself and thinking back to that little moment, felt good. 

Duff had just found the paring knife and Axl was searching for a second one, when Mikah appeared in the door. 

“Can I help?” he asked, looking for once not at his feet, but somewhere around the height of Axl’s chest. 

“No!” Axl replied. 

“Yes,” Duff corrected, giving him a reproachful ‘be nice’ look. 

Axl didn’t know why he should be nice. OK, so Mikah was the only one of the bunch who hadn’t done anything to antagonize anybody yet, but he was part of the problem. 

“Any experiences with peeling potatoes?”

Mikah shook his head. “I’ve never done kitchen work.”

“Then how do you want to help?” Axl muttered under his breath, earning him another elbow jab. 

“It’s not difficult. I’ll show you how,” Duff said. He demonstrated his skills and handed the knife over. 

“Do you really want to give him a weapon?” Axl hissed, but Duff just rolled his eyes. 

“Stop being such an asshole,” he whispered. 

“You know,” he added aloud. “It’s nice of you to help us, but you don’t have to. When you’re done with your list, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

Mikah looked up for a moment, maybe the first time he made eye contact with anybody. Of course, it was with Duff. Everybody fell for Duff, it was just the way things were. Duff was a case for science. 

“You two never get any free time,” he said. “So I thought … if I can help…,”

“We do get lots of free time,” Duff protested. 

“I wouldn’t call it ‘lots’,” Axl corrected. 

“Oh, come on, Axl, you know it’s only now. It’s because our time on shore got cut short. We didn’t manage all the maintenance. That’s why we’re working like ...”

“… slaves,” Axl completed the sentence. 

Mikah kept carving the potato into an uneven lump. He looked a bit worried into the pot, where the others were sitting, most of them Duff’s neat handywork, interspersed by some of Axl’s less perfect pieces, and gently set his abomination next to them. 

“Don’t worry about the shape,” Duff said. “They’ll taste all the same.”

“We weren’t done with the topic of free time, yet” Axl said. “You really think we get ‘lots’?”

“Don’t know about you, but I do get more than I used to,” Duff replied. “That’s because payment was so shitty that I always had to add another job when the day had hours left, so … yes.”

“Even though you have to work the nights, too?” Mikah asked surprised. “I mean,” he stuttered, “that’s pretty much 24 hours you’re on duty.”

“We’re not doing night shifts at the moment,” Duff replied and Axl rolled his eyes. Sometimes Duff was so dense. Then he noticed that Mikah was pointing at both of them. 

“Oh no!” he exclaimed. “No! Slash just moved into my quarters because the ship is suddenly overcrowded, but there’s no … no… none of that. That’s only Duff. Duff and Izzy. Because they’re fucked up. I’m not.”

Duff was getting it now, too. It was hard not to with the way Mikah was staring at his wrapped-up wrists. 

“That’s … different,” he said weakly. “And we’re not fucked up.”

“I beg to differ,” Axl mumbled and quickly moved to the side to avoid another jab. 

“I thought because … because he was getting so angry at Jari and how he dragged him out of the room, I thought you were both… So, it’s not … expected?” Mikah blushed while he asked.

“Yeah, it is, but only from Duff.”

“Axl!” Duff yelled. “No, it’s not. And definitely not from you, I mean, you’re not even one of us. And even if you were, nobody expects … that.”

“And Duff would be jealous,” Axl couldn’t help but add. 

“It’s not like that!” Duff protested. “I’m just …”

“Just?” Axl prompted. 

“It’s part of my job. That’s all.”

Axl gave him an incredulous look. “Yeah,” he said. “Peeling potatoes, scrubbing soot off the engines, sucking Izzy’s dick. Or having him do … whatever it was you’ve been doing yesterday. I can’t even imagine.” 

“Axl!”

“Hey!” Axl raised his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever floats your boat. I’m just amazed at how deep in denial a person can be.”

Duff threw a half peeled potato into his direction, but there was a slight blush on his cheeks, one that would not be there if this was really all just ‘part of the job’ for him. They had talked about sex so much and in so much detail, it wouldn’t be embarrassing for him. That meant, the embarrassing part was somewhere else. Interesting. 

“So, now that that’s off your chest… ,” Duff changed the topic with one last, menacing look into Axl’s direction, “…anything else you’re worrying about?”

Mikah’s eyes darted nervously towards the door and Duff just strode over and closed it. 

“OK,” he said. “What’s the problem? You’re not just here to help us peel potatoes.”

“I wanted to start making myself useful, because…” Mikah took a deep breath, “because my mistress might leave me here.”

“Nah.” Axl shook his head. “Izzy just said that, but she won’t …”

Mikah looked at him with naked despair written all over his face. 

“She really will?”

“I overheard them talk,” Mikah admitted. 

“Talk about letting Izzy hand you over to the authorities?”

“Izzy won’t do that,” Duff quickly said. 

“Don’t be so sure,” Axl contradicted. 

He knew Izzy a lot longer than Duff did, and the current version was pussycat compared to how ruthless Izzy could be if he felt the need. And now that he thought about it, when had Izzy started to be so … mellow? 

“Your master might have said that he might keep me here. That’s why I thought … I thought, if he expects more work from his slaves, then I should show that I can do that. Work more.”

And find out if you would have to hop into bed with him, Axl assumed. Mikah wasn’t bad looking, but he was far too neat for Izzy. Everything was neat about him, neatly cut hair, earnest expression, perfect subservience. No sense of humour and not even half an ounce of Duff’s wild-child charm. No, Duff really didn’t have to fear for his exclusive position. 

“Oh,” Duff said. “Yeah, that’s not … I guess that’s not so bad, is it? Staying here, I mean?”

Mikah’s expression spoke another language. One that wasn’t even spoken inside this galaxy. 

“Guess that’s a bit of a turn off, huh?” Axl said, not unkindly. “Not going to Goral with them.”

“I suppose they gave up on Goral,” Mikah replied. “That’s why they need to … to…,”

“Get rid of you,” Axl completed the sentence. 

He nodded. For a moment his eyes turned a bit too shiny, but he was a slave and forced his tears down before they even had a chance to spill. 

“What’s so special about Goral anyway?” Duff asked. “The galaxy is huge.”

“It’s uncharted territory,” Axl replied, and then, when Duff just looked clueless, “no slavery.”

“No… oh,” Duff made. And then … “Oh!”

“Yeah.” 

“Wow. I didn’t know. Maybe we should convince Izzy to go then.” Duff grinned as if it was really a possibility. 

“You can try,” Axl replied. It wouldn’t make a difference for him. Artificials weren’t free anywhere. He would just get another type of collar and still be Izzy’s property. But it was nice to see Duff’s face light up as he pictured a bright, free future in his head.

One he wouldn’t get. 

He sobered up after a while, when he saw Mikah’s dejected face. 

“Guess that really sucks,” he said and gave him a short hug. “Is it … I mean, it’s decided?”

“No, they are just talking,” Mikah dropped another abysmal potato into the pot. “But I could hear it in her voice. She’s about to give in.”

“Yeah.” Duff shrugged. “I guess that will make you one of us, then. As I said, could be worse.” 

Axl thought differently. He didn’t need yet another person onboard. Just because it had worked out with Duff didn’t necessarily meant they could just add people ad nauseam. 

“What will you even do?” Axl asked. “I don’t think Izzy will let you anywhere near his files, so all your training was for nothing. What did you do for that old woman? Apart from holding her money together?”

“Be there, mainly,” Mikah replied. “Talk to her. Push her around in her wheelchair. Make sure she’d not forget to eat. Or eat three times in a row because she had forgotten that she had already eaten. Make sure she stayed in her bed at night. Comfort her when she was crying. Which she did a lot. She had these moments, when she knew how much she was forgetting and then she got upset. Listen to the same childhood stories again and again. Read books to her. Also, the same few again and again. In the end she wouldn’t remember much from half an hour ago.”

Axl almost said that Slash liked being read to, but somehow didn’t feel like sharing this task. Or even the information that there was such a task. And that he was the one performing it. 

“Yeah, guess that leaves you with cleaning then,” he said instead. 

“I thought maybe you could teach me to …” he pointed at the pots. “Your food is awesome.”

“I bet they had better food where you come from,” Axl said, although he secretly agreed. One of the best things about Duff was his cooking

Mikah shrugged. “Don’t know. We didn’t get to eat it. Slaves got processed food. I mean, we got a treat now and then, but the kitchen crew got to any leftovers first and they wouldn’t share. So, this is the best I have ever eaten in all my life and it might be nice to learn how to prepare it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Duff said, and again Axl wanted to disagree. 

Cooking was his quality time with Duff and he didn’t want to share that either. Mikah wasn’t even part of the crew yet and already he was taking things that weren’t his to have. Duff, of course, was too good-natured to notice. He shared precious things like friendship and affection as if they were growing on trees. 

“Yeah, guess you can start right away,” Axl said, tossed his knife into the sink and left the kitchen. 

This would ruin everything. 

He wandered aimlessly through the corridors, then went down to the storage facilities and found himself finally in storage room 3 together with Duff’s new possessions. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he started unwrapping the drum kit and screwed it together according to the instructions. He had never seen one in reality, only on those concert vids Slash liked to watch. It was a lot smaller than those constructions, but it had enough things to bang on and that’s what he did. 

At first, he was just aimlessly hitting stuff, but then he tried to replicate some of Duff’s soup-pot rhythms and found out it was harder than it looked. And he hadn’t even started to use the pedals yet. It was also rather sweat-inducing, he realised, especially as the heating was now running too hot after they had repaired it. They would have a go at it once again tomorrow, but tonight they just had resigned to sweating. 

He looked around when the door suddenly opened and Slash stood there, looking at him. Axl felt a pang of guilt. He let the drum sticks sink into his lap, but refused to get off the seat. 

“Duff won’t mind,” he said and Slash came nearer. 

“No, he won’t.” 

He probably really wouldn’t. Duff didn’t only share affection and friendship and his whole fucking body with whoever asked, he shared all of his material possessions just as freely.

“What are you doing here?” Axl asked. 

Now Slash stood directly in front of him, just the drums between them, hands in his pockets and looking pensive. 

“Duff said you stormed off. So, I came looking for you.”

“Huh,” Axl said. 

“The idea was to talk to the two of you before making a decision. About Mikah. Looks like he pre-empted us.”

“Yeah, it’s Izzy’s decision, right? And he made it already.”

“He made his decision, yes,” Slash agreed. “But he said, it had to be unanimous.”

“What?” Axl rubbed his sleeve over his sweaty face. This was grating on his nerves. “You mean you both have to agree? That’s fucking generous of him.”

“No,” Slash said, hands still in his pockets, face pensive. “All four of us. You, me, Duff, Izzy.”

Axl frowned. “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “Izzy? Mr I’m God, don’t contradict me or I’ll make you scrub the sewer system from the inside?”

Slash shrugged. “That’s what he said.”

“Is he sick?” 

Slash shrugged again, but his lips twitched. “Just love sick, I suppose. Makes him a bit less hardnosed than he likes to be.”

Axl snorted. “What’s your vote, then? Pro or con?”

“Pro,” Slash said, not offering any explanation. 

But of course, he was. Slash didn’t mind people, as long as they left him alone when he wanted to be. Mikah wouldn’t be the type to run after him and take up more of his time than he was willing to give. Not like Axl himself who sometimes just followed him to the kitchen or the sitting room or even the fucking engine room, because the noises in his head got too loud and he needed a distraction. 

It had happened less often since Duff’s arrival, because Duff was always willing to share his time. Only sometimes he didn’t want Duff’s laughter, but Slash’s silence and then he went to find him. 

Duff, of course, would be pro, too. He couldn’t be anything else. And if Izzy was against it, then they wouldn’t be having this discussion. That left him. 

“Yeah, I’m contra,” Axl said. 

“Ok.” Slash turned around. 

“What?” Axl called after him. “That’s it? No trying to persuade me, telling me I’m a self-centred brat, that I need to think of somebody else for a change?”

Slash turned back to him. “No,” was all he said. 

“Why not?” Axl asked full of belligerence. “You leaving that little pep talk to Izzy?”

“No,” Slash said again. “Your opinion is just as important as anybody else’s.” 

“Fuck!” Axl exclaimed. “That’s unfair. This is not a democracy! So why are you forcing me to think about things and make decisions?”

Slash laughed and Axl wanted to punch him. 

“Oh, Axl,” he said and came around the drum kit. He wrapped his arms around him from behind and … was there a face in his hair? The fucker had kissed him onto the top of his head!

Axl pulled away and Slash immediately let go. 

“Take your time,” he said, “think about it, and make a decision. Nobody is rushing you. It will be two months until we reach Chomo and until then nothing can happen anyway. My suggestion was to shift Mikah more into the crew, see if we can work with him. Like some type of probation period. But to be honest, unless he totally fucks up, I guess I’ll stick with ‘yes’. Just for lack of alternatives.”

Axl didn’t think Mikah’s lack of alternatives had to be his problem. Not after all the shit that had gone down, and all the humiliation and heart-ache they had subjected Slash to. Mikah was guilty at least by association and that was enough for Axl to not like him. 

Seeing him lull Duff into being all trusting and compassionate was just an additional barb. He could keep his big eyes and tears and abandonment to himself. That was just how life was if you were a slave. For all of them. 

He didn’t even get it. Axl had never met a slave like Mikah and Duff hadn’t either. He was like a coiffured toy poodle, pretty to look at and taught some tricks, but unable to look after himself. What did Izzy even want with him? 

“It might just be their plan,” he cautioned. “Gives him perfect opportunity to spy on us.”

“That’s just what Izzy said,” Slash agreed. “You know him, Paranoia is his middle-name. He’ll probably give us all a talk on dos and don’ts around the enemy. It’s his main issue, by the way, keeping somebody onboard he doesn’t trust.”

“Then why does he even want to do it?” Axl exclaimed. “That’s so…so… so out of character for him. He shouldn’t care. He’s Izzy for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t care about other people’s problems.”

It was a bit unfair, Axl knew, because if Izzy never cared, he himself would by now be taken apart and incorporated into a dozen new assemblees. But Axl also knew that he had offered at least a challenge, and Izzy liked a challenge. 

Slash was still standing next to him and when Axl turned around on his seat, their knees brushed against each other. 

“I think…,” Slash said, “I think his world view is changing. But don’t tell him I said that, I’ll deny every word.”

Axl snickered. “Duff,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Slash agreed. “It’s always all about Duff. I’m pretty sure he would free him if he could, but he can’t and just that he wants to is driving him up the walls. Everything is just the way he had planned. Duff’s fulfilling all his sexual desires, lets him do whatever he wants, and still worships the ground under his feet. But instead of feeling smug about it, it leaves him… hm …”

“… not satisfied,” Axl finished. 

“Yeah. But as he’s Izzy, he refuses to think about it and just makes bizarre decisions. Honestly, his behaviour is becoming erratic and I don’t like that.”

“Like making sure the whole ship knows Duff is nothing but his bed slave.”

“For example. Whom is he even trying to convince, huh?”

“Or locking him all day into the freezer for stupid infractions like allowing him to sleep in. When he really needed to sleep in. I’ve seen Izzy come back, that was around four in the morning.”

“That, too,” Slash sighed. “And regretting it five minutes later, but being too stubborn to just let him out.”

“And Duff plays along. Really, Slash, that’s … uhm … enabling.”

“Duff is enabling Izzy’s convoluted behaviour every step of the way, but he won’t stop, ‘cause then he would have to address a couple of things himself; like clarifying whether he’s in love or just suffering from a severe case of Stockholm syndrome. And Duff likes things to be easy and non-complicated, so he won’t.”

“Nah!” Axl laughed. “It’s neither. Sucking Izzy off is just part of his job. Totally normal that. Happens to everybody.”

“Awesome,” Slash replied with a helpless chuckle. “Those two idiots deserve each other.”

Axl frowned. “How much have you been thinking about them?”

“Quite a bit,” Slash said. “It’s actually kind of fascinating to watch. But it’s also worrying, ‘cause Izzy is losing his clear line. That’s what I have always valued about him. I might not always agree with him, but I could always appreciate that he knew why he was doing what. He’s losing that and that’s not good.” 

For a moment Axl was speechless. He hadn’t thought much about Izzy in the way of possible stumbling blocks. Izzy was his rock, the one thing that would never shake in a world he would never fully understand, but if Izzy was starting to flounder...

“Then … what does Izzy want? I mean … what else can he ask from Duff?” 

And how could they make sure he got it and returned to being his old, unshakable self?

“To choose him,” Slash said. “Out of his own free will.”

“I think Duff is doing that,” Axl replied. “Really. He may spout bullshit, but he likes Izzy.”

“Problem is, for as long as this decision is not his to make, Izzy can never be sure. Duff is somebody to arrange himself, no matter how dire the situation. Don’t get me wrong, given his status it’s a good character trait. Keeps him at least content. 

But also means, if Izzy asks him to really be his lover, boyfriend, marry him, whatever, Duff will agree without even contemplating any alternatives. Izzy is his master and if your master wants to dote on you, in Duff’s book, you fucking well let him. Izzy is not stupid, he knows this. He also knows he has to content himself with that for as long as Duff stays his slave. Which will be …”

“…forever.”

“Yep. You know the saying, if you love somebody you have to let him go.”

“I thought that pertained to tamed animals,” Axl said. 

“Same here. In an ideal world, Izzy would set Duff free, he would leave, get his head cleared out, and realize that he has other opportunities than being fucked raw by his master. Then he’ll decide that being fucked raw by Izzy is just what he always wanted from life and returns to him. Free will.”

“Yeah, that won’t happen.”

“No,” Slash agreed and he looked a bit crestfallen, as if he had silently hoped for such a fairy tale end. “But that’s what’s making Izzy run in circles and it has started to affect his behaviour. And that affects us. And I’m not sure what to do about that. But getting rid of our unwanted baggage and restoring the peace on the ship, might be a first step. Taking on Mikah is the easiest way to achieve that. I’m not saying that to push you. Your decision is yours. I meant that. Izzy means that, too. I just want you to see the full picture and, in my opinion, Izzy is in over his head and doesn’t know how to get out.”

Axl lifted one of the drum sticks and tapped absent mindedly onto the snare drum. He needed time to think about this. Lots of time. He would do so at night, when Slash was softly snoring next to him. 

“Get your guitar?” he asked. 

Slash looked surprised. 

“It’s still some time until dinner and I don’t feel like … going back upstairs.”

“OK,” Slash said. “If you want to.”

“Yeah,” Axl replied. “Would be nice.”

+++

Dinnertime came and with it another joy filled evening of easy companionship and spirited conversations. Jari, freed from his prison, but banned from being in the same room as Axl, was missing. 

“He can get the leftovers,” Izzy had said, but Aino had filled a plate and served it to him … wherever. Hopefully in his cabin. 

“We’ve come to a decision,” she said when she returned. 

Slash didn’t need to know what it was, one glance to Mikah was enough. He had all the animation and skin tone of a corpse, gripping his fork so tight his knuckles turned white and hadn’t eaten much. 

“Mikah will stay with you, Jeff.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Izzy replied. “We haven’t come to a conclusion, yet. I’ll let you know when we have.”

“But you said…,” Lis flared up.

“I said I’ll think about it,” Izzy replied without stopping to eat. “We’re not done thinking yet and we will think for as long as it takes us.”

“Who is we?” Aino asked and stared at Slash. “You’re the captain, it’s your decision to make.”

“Oh wow,” Izzy retorted. “All of a sudden I get to make the decisions. We is we, Aino, as in Slash, Duff, Axl and me.” 

Aino groaned. “You’re doing this to spite me, aren’t you?”

“Not everything is about you. We have to live with each other, therefore decisions like that are made together. It’s always been like that,” Slash lied fluently through his teeth. 

“Oh, please!” she exclaimed. “I know Jeff since we were kids…,”

“Yeah, but you haven’t lived with him for the last decade. Nobody here is eighteen anymore. Things change, opinions change, fuck, people change, you know.”

“Are you done discussing my personality?” Izzy asked drily. “Yes? Thank you.” 

They kept eating in deadly silence. 

“What we can do,” Izzy eventually said, “is have Mikah work with us instead of you. Might help to accelerate the thinking process.”

“What, you get to try him out and if you don’t like him, you send him back?” Lis snapped. 

She was beyond annoyed, Slash noticed. Here she had thought the problem was solved and it was pushed right back into her face. 

“Exactly,” Izzy replied. And then he grinned. “Duff came with a trial period, you know? I could have returned him within the month for a full refund, no questions asked.”

“Really?” Axl asked. “You never said. Why?”

“Because he was a reprobate,” Izzy said. 

“Oh, come on!” Duff exclaimed. “It’s just because this shop was so … so … they had slaves like Mikah there, not like me! I was just … just… ”

“Rummage goods?” Axl provided, helpful as always. 

Duff tossed a potato into his direction. Great, now they were stooping down to food fights. Not that it was the first time, they were all infantile sometimes. 

“What the fuck were you even doing there, Izzy?” Slash asked. 

“It was raining!” Izzy shouted back. “I told you so remember? It was fucking raining, I was bored, there was Duff. And he was cheap as fuck.”

“Like I said, rummage goods,” Axl repeated. 

Izzy quickly grabbed Duff’s hand and held it down before he could throw any more food. 

“So, you didn’t make a combined decision then?” Aino asked. 

“It might be that we changed our working procedures afterwards,” Izzy replied sweetly. “Doesn’t change anything. I’d say, we try him out, we’ll let you know the result.”

“And what exactly will ‘trying out’ entail?” Lis bristled. 

Izzy gave her a totally vacant look. 

“What difference does it make?” Mikah suddenly said.

It was, Slash thought, the first time he heard him speak without being prompted and from the looks he got, everybody else was just as surprised as he was.

“Sorry,” he added. 

“No,” Izzy said. “It’s Ok. Say what you’ve got to say.”

Mikah hesitated. 

“No punishment for speaking openly here,” Izzy added with a warning glance into Aino’s direction. “Not from me and not from anybody else. I’m sure you got that much already.”

“It doesn’t make a difference, because if I am supposed to stay then I have to deal with whatever you want me to do, sir,” he said. “In fact, I think it is a good idea because then I will know right away what is … expected.”

“Oh, fuck you all!” Axl yelled, tossed his fork onto the table and stood up. “Get it over with! I vote ‘yes’.” 

“Famous last words,” Izzy said when Axl stormed out of the room. “Guess that’s settled then.” He pulled Axl’s plate over to himself and finished the leftovers. “Come to my cabin later, Mikah.”

Mikah, if that was even possible, paled further. 

Izzy shook his head in mild amusement. “For instructions, kid. And your new work schedule. How many times do you think I can get it up in a row, huh? I have to keep Duff happy, that’s taxing enough at my age. You heard Slash, I’m not eighteen anymore.”

If Duff had had a potato left, Slash was sure he would have thrown it. 

“Good to know, grandpa,” Aino said, but she looked, maybe for the first time, happy. 

+++

Later, when Slash joined Axl in his cabin, he thought that at least they now had a plan. It might not be ideal, but it more or less solved all their combined problems. Except Mikah’s maybe, but nobody would ask him. The faulty heating had gone up another notch and the tiny room was stifling. 

Axl sat on the bed, dressed in shorts and t-shirt. Slash had seen Axl’s scars before, of course, but they never failed to disturb him. He tried to not look at his legs, but apparently, he had failed because Axl pulled up the covers. 

“Mind if I take this of?” he asked and pulled at his T-shirt. 

“Be my guest,” Axl replied. “Just keep your naked self to yourself.”

Slash really would have liked to ask what had brought on Axl’s change of mind regarding the Mikah-situation, but he knew better than to follow up on it. Axl didn’t like to explain himself. 

“Another chapter?” Slash prompted softly, when they were sitting in bed once more, arms brushing against one another every few seconds. 

“You really should learn to read yourself, you know,” he said, but when Slash put an arm around him, he settled against his side, not caring anymore about naked skin, and started to read. 

“What of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. Well, then however the old sea-captains may order me about – however they may thump an punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing it is all right; that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way – either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other’s shoulder-blades, and be content.”

Axl faltered, and Slash knew he was thinking about what he had just read. Usually that would lead to some sort of comment and so, just to be prepared, Slash thought about it, too. 

“Not much changed, huh?” Axl finally said. “Is it really like that? For you, I mean? Do you feel like a slave when Izzy orders you around?”

Slash wondered if the author had thought enough about the topic of slavery to make such an offhand comment, and he knew why it was rubbing Axl the wrong way. 

“No,” he finally said. “Yes, the lines blur here on the ship,” he admitted, although there was a difference between how Izzy treated him versus how he treated Duff and Axl.

Sometimes it was subtle, sometimes blatantly obvious, but it was always there. They were given less leeway, they had more detailed work schedules with far less room for interpretation. While Slash was usually told to take care of a certain problem, Axl and Duff got the problem broken down into single tasks that had to be finished within a certain timeframe. It was usually all doable for them, but if they didn’t manage, they had to come up with an explanation. 

Maybe it was a question of job seniority, but maybe it was just the way Izzy dealt with slaves. It was hard to say. 

“What he probably wants to say is that everybody is under somebody’s authority and that there is no shame in accepting that.”

“Yeah, that’s what they also told us on Tarui,” Axl said with disgust. “And the highest authority is God, so even an emperor of the realm has to submit to somebody. It was all bullshit.”

“He misses the vital point,” Slash said. “I do it because I have decided to do it. We also negotiated what Izzy could ask off me and what not and what he would have to pay me.”

It hadn’t been much of a negotiation, Slash had just accepted everything, being hard-pressed to get off planet, but that wasn’t the point. 

“I don’t submit to Izzy because it’s his God-given right, but because he has earned my respect. I know that he will save my ass, if he has to. Fuck, he just did the other day. But if that should ever change, and if he should ever turn into a tyrant, yeah, then it’s good-bye and I look for something else. You and Duff, you didn’t make this decision. It was made for you and your only choice is to accept or to rebel and pay the price. That’s different. In fact, it makes all the difference.”

Axl hummed under his breath, but he didn’t start reading again. His head rested against Slash’s shoulder now and after a short brush over his scalp, Slash pulled off the bandana. Axl didn’t protest, just sighed a little, when he started rubbing around the electrodes again. 

“You don’t like slavery, do you?” Axl asked. 

“No,” Slash replied. “Never have.”

“But you never said anything.”

“No,” Slash agreed. “Maybe I should have, but … no. I guess, I just accepted that it was part of society.” 

“You started to say more when Duff came,” Axl said. “I heard you sometimes, berating Izzy about how he was …”

“… a perverted bastard?”

“Yeah.”

He hesitated, not sure if this was something they should even be talking about, but Izzy was always brutally honest with Axl and so far, it had worked out.

“Maybe,” he admitted, and it hurt to say that, “it’s because I didn’t like you much in the beginning.”

Axl snorted. “I wasn’t very likable.” 

“But I should have been more understanding. I was still hung up in my own shit, if that’s an excuse, but if I look back from today to then, I start to get it. Why you were that way. Anyway, at the beginning, I think, I didn’t really care. I thought you were already treated better than you deserved with all that yelling and hitting and destroying the ship. So, I didn’t say anything on your behalf.” 

And to be honest, there hadn’t been much he could have said. Izzy may have a sharp tongue where Axl was concerned, but he had always treated him with impeccable fairness. As if he was aware, that one misstep might destroy whatever trust Axl had developed.

“Duff was easier to feel outraged about.”

“You can’t not like Duff,” Axl said. “I tried. It’s impossible.”

Slash chuckled. “Yeah, but that shouldn’t be the point. If it’s wrong for him, it’s wrong for everybody. I guess, he made me think more about slavery in general. And how I was just accepting it against better judgement, because it happens to be everywhere. But, no, I don’t like it. I never have. But I also know that there is no way out for you and staying here… I guess that’s the best you can get out of the whole mess. So, there’s no real point in starting drama about it. I know Izzy’s standpoint is different, but even if it weren’t… it wouldn’t change anything for you guys.”

If he was honest, it had really started when Duff had been yelling at him about slave-camp-conditions. He had never bothered to think much about those establishments, he definitely hadn’t thought about child-Axl trying to survive in one of them. In fact, he had never pictured Axl as a child at all. He should have. 

Assemblees, at least the better ones, that didn’t look like a conglomerate of non-matching body parts, but could actually pass as human, were about toddler-age when they were activated. Young enough to grow all those different body-parts together and learn quickly how to function on a physical level. Big enough to eat solid food, to learn walking right away, and to start working within a year or two. Even a physically three-year-old could be useful, if kicked enough. 

Axl had never talked about his childhood himself. He hadn’t lost a single word about Tarui to Slash, not ever. Maybe he had talked to Izzy, Slash wouldn’t know, but lately Axl was starting to open up. 

He did make some off-hand comments now and then, mainly to Duff. Slash was pretty sure they weren’t meant for his ears, but he had caught some of them, and it started to seep in that Axl hadn’t just been starved and beaten for a while. His owners had done whatever they could to fully destroy him, had done so from the day he had been strong enough to drag a bucket of titanium ore after his tiny self. They may not have fully succeeded, but they had managed to a certain degree. The non-visible scars were a lot worse than those on the outside and sometimes Slash wondered how many of those wounds were still bleeding. 

“I like you now,” he said and it made Axl laugh. 

“Good thing for you, as you are stuck in my bed for the foreseeable future.”

“Just until Chomo.” It was only two more months, then he would be back to his own bed. To his surprise, Slash felt a pang of regret.

“Yeah, just until Chomo.”

If he was not completely mistaken, Axl sounded a little wistful, too. 

-End of Part III-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it, but this is already end of Part III. 
> 
> I have to take another break, because I have to focus a bit on writing the next two parts. Part IV is done, but feels somehow not cohesive. It really needs some serious editing and some additional scenes. And Part V is still driving me nuts. 
> 
> I would also like to mention that these last chapters were brought to you under serious hardship. The only place were I got decent WLAN to upload the chapters, was in front of the reception building of the camping area where I am staying. Which is North of the Arctic Circle and as soon as the sun is gone, it's cold as fuck. 
> 
> So, Part IV will bring some serious changes. You can make bets about what's going to happen and how it will affect them all.
> 
> If you want to contact me in the meanwhile: lottali04@googlemail.com


	29. The New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tidying up the next part was easier than I had thought. I only had to find the common thread. So here we go again.

Part IV

They were settling into a new normal. Or tried at least. 

Having found a solution to their main problem helped to restore a certain order over the course of the day. There was no need to discuss unsolvable situations anymore. Everybody stayed within their group and did their best to not breed any further discord, dinner being the only time of the day where they all actually met. Even Jari did his best to be civil. 

Axl found out that he had been right. Duff didn’t mind that he had set up his drum kit. He just moved into storage room 3, never to emerge again. Axl soon followed. Then there was suddenly Slash, dragging his guitar and whatever cushions he could find after himself. Even Izzy showed up now and then, abusing Duff’s bass until Duff ripped it out of his hands and delegated him to playing drums. 

Duff, Axl noticed, really could play bass. And Izzy did not only know his way around a guitar, but had also a reasonable grip on drums. He definitely knew how to hold a rhythm. And sometimes he even sang, his voice raspy and not very melodic, but Axl loved it nevertheless. 

Daring to sing when Izzy was around had taken a while. Usually, when he showed up, Axl would retreat to the pile of pillows and just watch the other three bang around. Izzy never stayed long, always claiming urgent work to get into the way, as if he didn’t want to spoil their fun with his presence. 

Theoretically Axl knew of course, that his voice was far, far better than Izzy’s or Duff’s. He got higher, he got lower and, most importantly, he hit the fucking notes! Still, while he didn’t have an issue to occasionally fuck up around Duff, being less than perfect in Slash’s presence was already a lot harder. With Izzy in the room, it was impossible. 

Once he had gotten over his fears, he still only dared to do some soft background singing to Izzy’s lead. Until that one day. 

He had gotten lost in the melody, when Izzy suddenly fell silent in the middle of the song. When Axl finally noticed, he had already sung half a verse on his own and it would have been even more embarrassing to just stop. So he finished. 

Afterwards he stormed out of storage room 3 and for lack of options right into storage room 4, where he hid behind crates until the whole ship fell silent. He would never sing another note, he swore to himself, if that bastard stooped down to dirty tricks like that. 

A couple of days after that incident, Izzy called him into his cabin. Usually they discussed anything that needed discussion during their time on the bridge, and so Axl immediately wondered what he had done wrong. When he reached the door, he took a moment to quiet his worries and at the same time braced himself for whatever reprimands would come his way. Then he hit the beeper, the door opened and as expected Izzy sat at the computer. 

“One second.” 

He finished whatever it was he was doing, then he turned around and beckoned him over. 

“I wanted to discuss a couple of things with you before putting them into effect.”

Axl almost made a step back. “You want my input?” 

Izzy didn’t ask for input. He made decisions and informed the gang about them. They would whine and gripe and then do as told.

“Yeah, you’re the one having to deal with it, so I thought … anyway, come over here.”

Axl approached the terminal and looked over Izzy’s shoulder. It was the working schedule, he realized. 

“Is this about Mikah?” he asked. 

“Yep. Time to really get him into the system, I guess. Fuck, we need a second chair in here.” He shifted to the side and Axl perched down on the corner of the seat. “I thought it was about time you got your own apprentice.”

“I … what?” Axl stuttered. 

“Yeah,” Izzy cleared his throat. “I mean, you’re definitely past apprentice status yourself, so I figured, how about you take on a bit more responsibility?” 

“I … I guess I can do that,” he finally brought out, not sure if he should feel flattered or suspicious. 

Izzy didn’t look happy himself, rather as if somebody had stolen his secret diary and was now stepping up onto a box to read it to the whole crew. 

“Good, so … obviously I don’t want Mikah anywhere near anything vital, but I figured we can get him involved with keeping track on what we do and don’t have. Keeping an overview over supplies, shit like that. It’s better than doing the dishes day in day out and Duff said, our inventories are disastrous.”

“Duff?” Axl asked. “How would he even know?”

Izzy smiled wryly. “I thought it was a good idea to foist the warehousing off on him. Anything that has to do with restocking and so on. Turns out, he got pretty unhappy, pretty fast because he said there was no way to find out what we even had. Sooooo, somebody needs to count all the screws.”

“Awesome,” Axl said. “I just feel a sudden surge of happiness that you recently acquired another slave.”

Izzy chuckled. “Yeah, anyway, I’d like you to organize that. Ask Duff what he considers most urgent, then make a plan, show Mikah where we’re storing what, get him to work, keep an overview of what he is getting done, check back with Duff so that he can get the results into the system.”

“And then I get back to you about it?”

“No,” Izzy said and that tortured expression was back. “No, just … it’s your job. Yours and Duff’s. You … get this done.”

“Ok.” Axl gave Izzy a wary look. “I can order him around the way you order me around?”

“Be nice,” Izzy said in a stern voice. 

“Are you nice?”

“Pretend I was.”

Axl grinned. He was absolutely convinced that Izzy had some hidden intention, but he couldn’t help it, he felt … smug. He would get his own apprentice while Duff was still fully apprenticed. That meant, he had just risen in rank. Or hadn’t he? 

“Anyway, make sure he does not pass through the engine room. And never leave him alone with a computer terminal nearby. I’ll give you authority to attach his tracker to the different storage rooms, so you can lock him in place when he’s working.”

“I can…,” Axl suddenly felt not only smug, but positively elevated. 

“Yeah, just don’t forget him after his shift. And make sure he knows he can use the intercom if he needs anything. He’s your responsibility, OK? I expect him to be returned in good condition each evening. For the time being we don’t need him to do the cleaning, we can leave that to the rest of our dear passengers, but once we’ve gotten rid of them, that will all go back to Mikah. You can already make plans on how to organize that.”

“Sure,” Axl replied. 

Now he was definitely convinced that Izzy had hidden intentions. Not that he cared. No more cleaning. And if it was his job to organize Mikah’s working schedule, then he could still claim cooking time with Duff for himself. 

“When do you want me to start?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” Izzy returned to the computer. “Send Duff over, will you? He’s got some weird ideas about how much food we need to buy on Chomo, so ….”

“Yeah,” Axl said. “Will do.”

“OK. Oh, one more question. I don’t want Mikah to share quarters with Jari, obviously. He needs to move in with one of you. Do you want to keep Slash or should Slash move over to Duff?”

“I’ll keep Slash,” Axl said quickly. “I guess we got used to each other.”

“Fine by me,” Izzy replied and Axl let out a breath of relief. “You can let him know. Mikah, I mean, I’ll talk to Duff.”

Axl left Izzy’s quarter on top of a pink cloud. He was even nice to Mikah, when he found him in the kitchen with Duff. There was a niggling suspicion that this was exactly what Izzy’s hidden intention had been, but at the moment he didn’t care. 

He had been promoted, despite there being a human slave who could have taken over that job. Duff was just as well suited to have Mikah count screws, especially if he was taking care of the inventories anyway. 

Ever since Duff had joined their ranks, Axl had wondered if one of the reasons an additional slave had been brought into the fold was because with his artificial origin, he was not enough. 

Maybe Izzy had wanted to upgrade to a human slave. People did that all the time, buy a cheap piece of equipment to try out a new hobby, before investing serious money into something better later on.  
That Izzy had so quickly grown enamoured with Duff hadn’t helped to quiet his jealousy at all. In Axl’s eye it had only been a question of time until Duff would push him out of Izzy’s affections for good  
.  
And then Mikah had shown up, quiet, well behaved, fucking educated. In terms of slave grading, Mikah was yet another step up even from Duff. Fuck that, ten steps up. And maybe Axl had feared that this time he was not only in danger of losing Izzy’s affections, but also Duff’s. Unlike him, Mikah was nice and friendly and very easy to be around. He was about as interesting as a piece of furniture, sure, but wasn’t that what people expected from slaves? 

But this? This was different. Responsibility. It meant he did his work well, it meant Izzy trusted him with more, it meant … fuck… probably just that he was now something like a well-trained dog instead of the mangy mongrel he had been when he had come onboard. Izzy had brushed his fur, had hand-fed him back to health and taught him some tricks. And like any good dog, he would help his master train the next puppy. 

Would it make him complicit if he assisted Izzy with training Mikah? Slaves who got authority over other slaves were often worse than free overseers. He had seen it day in day out. Duff had said the same. The minimum he could do was to not fall into that trap. 

So, as much as he wished to make sure Mikah knew he was not welcome, he couldn’t do it. Or he would turn into the same piece of crap he had suffered under for most of his life. 

And now he knew definitely what Izzy’s hidden agenda had been. Fuck him and his fucking double thinking. 

Still, he was a bit hyper all evening and for the first time in weeks he was unable to join Slash in his bed, not even to read another chapter about whaling to him.

Instead he wandered through the ship, climbed down to its belly and walked along the maze of corridors, then made his way up again and finally found himself in the sitting room. He didn’t switch on the light, just sat in the darkness and stared out into space, trying to get rid of the cottony feeling that had started to spread through his brain about a day ago. 

It didn’t work. Yesterday he had still been able to fight it down by sheer willpower, but now it was getting stronger by the hour. Axl knew what it meant. He had to ask for treatment, and that only one and a half months after the last one. Sadly, after the disaster his latest delay had produced, he knew he had to come forward early this time. Another lapse and whatever credit of trust Izzy was willing to offer, would be used up. 

Axl had gotten pretty good at judging the severity of his symptoms. His range of vision was already slightly narrowing. Not much yet, but he had to turn his head more often than usually. There was also this strange feeling of not being fully there, as if his mind was floating above himself now and then, before it settled back into his head and he could take once more control of his body.

Soon these episodes would come more frequently, voices would be more difficult to understand, colours would bleed in from the margins of his field of vision, and the headaches, at the moment just clots of tension behind his forehead, would roll over him in waves. 

Sometimes he could keep it at the current level for days. In fact, he was getting better and better at exhausting his control until the last possible moment. Still, last time he had run from feeling slightly detached through all the other symptoms and into full blackout in less than thirty minutes. 

He looked at the clock. 3.40 AM. Everybody was asleep. He could probably wait until Izzy woke up anyway. Yes, he could sit here, stare into the darkness, try to chase clouds out of his head, until his worry blew out the last shreds of sanity. What if it all went downhill just as fast as it had last time? What if it was going to happen like that every time now? Izzy would have to buy the cage Slash had demanded, when they had still tried to figure out what was wrong with him. 

For a moment he thought about waking Slash, but he didn’t want him to see him like this. Helpless to keep himself from falling apart. Sure, Slash was more understanding now, but back in the day his reactions had been … harsh. He had called him a lunatic, an animal, a complete failure and lots of other very apt descriptions. More than once he had heard him demand that Izzy either got rid of him or made sure he was better secured. 

It had changed during their stay at Erudino. Or a bit before that, if he was honest. While Izzy had been so badly hurt and they just had to work together to survive. 

Axl didn’t like to think about those weeks at the research institution. He had been shocked so often, in different doses, different locations, different intervals. They had pushed the probes in, pulled them out, pushed them back into a different area, while trying to figure out the perfect settings. As nothing was permanent, the electrodes hadn’t been sealed in and he had run around with holes in his head. Not that he had done much running. They were required to keep him in a kennel during the duration of their stay. 

Izzy had wanted to call it all off several times, but one look at his face, still gaunt and grey coloured after the ordeal, had been enough for Axl to pull through. They had had a lot of alone time during the evenings, because Izzy had refused to leave him alone and return to his ship. So, to the complete incomprehension of the staff, they had shared Axl’s cage between treatment appointments. 

After all that Slash had been a lot nicer, hadn’t called him names anymore, and had started to treat him like the human being he would never be. But Axl still was a bit wary to allow his so very fucked up attributes to show around him. His brain was a liability, treatment or not, and it was best to not remind Slash of that too often. 

Axl sat for another half hour, then he stood up and went to Izzy’s cabin. The door opened almost immediately after he beeped, and when he entered, Izzy was up already and getting into his clothes.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered. 

Axl noticed Duff sitting up on the far end of the bed, hair tousled, eyes sleepy.

“Axl?” Izzy urged, when he got no reply, but Axl only looked at Duff, who was slowly coming awake. 

“I’ll be…,” Duff’s voice was raspy, but he had understood the problem. He stumbled out of bed, put on a pair of shorts and padded into the bathroom. 

“I need treatment,” Axl said softly, not looking at Izzy.

“Ok,” Izzy said, running a hand through his messy hair. He was fully alert now, Axl noticed. “Immediately?” 

“No, it can wait until morning. Probably even longer, but I’d rather not … delay.”

Izzy gave him a sharp look, and then he nodded. 

“Do you want to stay?” he asked and Axl was grateful he didn’t have to explain the real reason for his appearance in the middle of the night. 

“No,” he said nevertheless. 

Duff was here and they probably wanted to be alone. He hadn’t considered this. It hurt a little, he had to admit, but he tried to not be jealous. It wasn’t leading anywhere. 

“I can go back, I just … I couldn’t sleep and …”

“And you wanted somebody to be awake with you,” Izzy finished for him. 

Axl nodded. It was pathetic, but it was what it was. 

“That’s OK. Stay.”

“I…,” 

At that moment Duff came out of the bathroom. He cast one look from Izzy to Axl and then, with a small smile, he put on his clothes. 

“You don’t have to…,” Axl started, but Duff just came over to them and pressed a brief kiss onto Izzy’s lips. “Good night… well, for what’s left of it.” 

He nodded at Axl, and then he left them alone. 

“See?” Izzy said. “No problem at all. Come to bed.”

Axl rolled up next to Izzy, resting his head lightly against his hip. Sometimes body contact helped to ground him for a little longer, but he didn’t like requesting it. He had fended it off for so long that asking to be touched now felt like prostrating himself. Usually he just waited until Izzy offered, and then pretended to give in. 

“Do you want Slash to be there tomorrow?” Izzy asked. 

“What? No!” Axl exclaimed. “Why would I?”

Izzy shrugged. “You’re getting pretty close lately. Thought you might like him there. For moral support.”

Having Slash watch him getting all wired up was not going to happen. Even Duff’s presence had been uncomfortable, although he had understood the necessity. 

“No,” Axl repeated. “I don’t want anybody there. Let’s not make it more complicated than it already is.”

“OK.” Izzy fell silent and for a moment Axl feared, he had fallen asleep. 

“Talk to me,” he whispered. 

He knew Izzy was probably tired, wanted to sleep, or cuddle with Duff, not tell him stories, but he couldn’t help himself. He was needy and afraid and he wanted reassurance. No matter how often Izzy shocked him, he still feared each and every time that he would wake up without his memories. That maybe this was the time they wouldn’t return. What would be left of him then?

“What would you like me to talk about,” Izzy asked back. He was halfway lying down, head propped up on a stack of pillows, running his hand lightly over Axl’s shoulder. 

“Tell me about Goral,” he finally said. He had read up about it, but information was scarce. 

“Goral!” Izzy said surprised. 

“You said you’ve been there.”

“A couple of times,” Izzy admitted. “Because I was curious. Got into trouble with the family each time.” He chuckled. “You can imagine, I never went far. Don’t know if my idea about it is accurate.”

“So how is it?” 

“Sparse,” Izzy said after a while. “Very sparse. The distances between stars are much bigger than here. Makes travel a bit of a nuisance. Maps are not really available either, only for the first few solar systems. Then it’s total wilderness. There’s one planetary system near the border and two of the planets offer living conditions. Goral I and Goral II. They do have some information about the further systems, but I can’t say how much of that is true or just hearsay. Only few of those who leave come back, be it because the others get lost on the way out or because once you’ve made the journey, you just don’t bother to return.”

“But you’ve been to those? The first two?”

“Yeah, not much further.” 

Izzy shifted to get more comfortable and Axl used the movement to get a bit closer himself. 

“I was still a kid, really. Those border planets have a pretty high population. They’re the gateway for every runaway slave or criminal in the galaxy. You want your freedom, you go to Goral. They don’t care what you’ve done before, they only care what you do now. And not even much about that. So, main population is the cast outs of our galaxy. Then you have those people who don’t care for all those constraints and regulations we have here, where you have to hand in an application if you want to take a dump in the morning.”

Axl smiled. Izzy’s love for the realm’s bureaucracy was legendary. 

“Sounds like you’d like it there.”

“I did, somehow. As I said, it’s pretty wild. Whatever you want, you can get it there. Whatever you want to do, you do it. Nobody really cares. As long as you pay the price, of course. If not, it can get ugly pretty fast. But if you can hold your own, yeah, you can surely thrive there.”

“And that’s where Mikah wants to go to?” 

Izzy chuckled. “Yeah, not really, I guess. But for him going to Goral sounds like finding Atlantis. In all fairness, those who manage to get over the border should have enough grit to make their way. And Aino always wanted to go. Even when we were kids, she sometimes mentioned running away to Goral and live life to the fullest. So it’s probably her behind the whole plan, and she convinced everybody else to go along with her insane ideas.”

“And you?” 

“I’ve been there, haven’t I? As I said, the first planets are only a gateway. You can have a wild time, sure, but what then? Everything else sounded a bit much to me. If you go further, you should have enough supplies for at least a year, better more, and I was just a teenager. Running away into the other direction seemed more feasible.”

“Do they allow … me?” Axl asked. 

“Yeah. They allow pretty much everything. But you wouldn’t be free there either.”

Axl knew, of course. He had read up on it, but he had hoped that maybe Izzy had different information. Not that it mattered, because he would never get there anyway. 

“It’s because the population has swapped over from our side of the galaxy. They might feel pity for their own plight, but they come with the same preconceptions people have here. Also, slaves might be free, but life is definitely not rosy for them. They might get rid of the collars, but the chips are for eternity. They don’t have an official caste system, but the unofficial one is pretty effective. Being an ex-slave on Goral is not the same as being free here.”

Axl had been chipped before his activation and therefore had no memory of it, but Duff had once mentioned how painful it had been, when they had pushed the syringe with the chip into his vertebral canal. 

“They don’t exactly bother to make it easy for you,” he had said. “The more it hurts, the more you know you have fucked up and so they hammer that fucker into your neck until you scream. There were about a dozen people in the line before me and each and every one of them was screaming blue murder. By the time it was my turn, I was beside myself with fear. And, yeah, I screamed just as loud.”

“Duff didn’t even know there was no slavery,” Axl said. “I had to explain it to him. He was free once, and yet he knows so little.” 

Izzy chuckled. “And now you gave him ideas, huh?”

Axl thought about it. Had he given Duff ideas? He sometimes mentioned Goral, but mainly because it was something new, something he had never thought about. So far, he didn’t seem to make escape plans. 

“What about the other planets?” he asked. “In other solar systems?”

“I don’t really know,” Izzy replied. “There are some stories about green pastures and prosperous landscapes, of course, but those might just be that: stories.”

“Do you think I might be free … there?”

“I don’t know, Axl.” Izzy kept petting him, not even getting upset by the question. “You know how difficult it is for artificials to even try and run away. How would you even get your hands on your shots, huh?”

The blasted antidote. It was just another atrocity done to him. The shots always made him sick, but if he prolonged getting them, his skin started to develop blemishes and his hair would fall out. That was before the inner organs would be destroyed one by one. Once they had to stretch the time between injections because Izzy hadn’t been able to resupply on three fucking planets in a row. Hadn’t been pretty. 

In order to buy those shots, one needed a license, which was only issued if one was in official possession of an artificial. Not even Slash could go and buy them in Izzy’s stead, Izzy had to do it himself. 

Whatever he bought had to be locked as if it was weapon grade material, each purchase was recorded for eternity and he had to keep records about every single dose he administered. Axl knew they had a whole file in the system just about all the stuff that went into his body on a monthly basis. It was the best way to make sure artificials stayed under control. 

There were illegally produced drugs, of course, at least for the other types of artificials, those that were a bit more common than his type. But they were expensive and of questionable quality. Before even considering to run away, he would have to figure out a way to get his hands on enough shots to last for a while. Which was impossible. 

“There’s got to be a way,” he muttered. 

“There likely is,” Izzy said. “I just didn’t think about it yet. So, just in case you’re planning to run off to Goral, make sure you bring a supply, OK? I’d hate if you perished from something as stupid as forgetting your shots.”

“What would you do if I tried to run?” Axl asked after a while. 

“Why, wish you good luck, of course.”

They both knew it was not a real question. There was nowhere for Axl to go. While there was now and then discussion about whether slavery wasn’t an outdated concept and how at least the implementation of slave rights had to be supervised more closely, artificials were a whole other kettle of fish. 

There were no abolitionists, no secret organisations that ferried artificials out of the realm, nothing. But for a moment he indulged in the idea of just leaving everything behind, not only the realm, but also Goral I and II, and travel off into the vast emptiness that lay behind that. To greener pastures and maybe even a planet that had white, sandy beaches and endless, blue oceans. 

“And if Duff tried to run?” Axl asked. That was indeed a valid question and Izzy took some time to think about it. 

“Make sure he gets through OK,” he finally said. 

Axl believed him. 

+++

To Axl’s surprise, he did fall asleep, if only for a few minutes. Izzy woke him early, before anybody was up. The sickbay was cold and Axl shivered when he took off his clothes. He wished he could at least keep his shorts on, but Izzy insisted, it was a no go. Why, he would never understand. Nobody on Erudino had been this particular. But Izzy claimed that he couldn’t be sufficiently monitored while wearing clothes. 

He climbed onto the stretcher, legs dangling down, and waited while Izzy booted the system and sipped his coffee. Last time had been really awkward. It had taken Duff ages to get everything properly attached. Axl had decided to simply take the embarrassment as punishment for his fuckup, and suffered through it.

Izzy had more practice and it took only a few minutes until he was wired and restrained. 

Desperation settled over him, just like every single time they played this game, desperation and a resignation he hadn’t even known on Tarui. There he had always fought, had never just given in, when here he did it voluntarily. Fucking asked for it. It turned his whole understanding of himself upside down. 

He bit into the blasted rubber gag, while Izzy checked that every connection was working and everything picked up its signal. Tears prickled behind his eyelids, but he forced them down with lifelong practice. 

“Ready?” Izzy asked. 

Axl, unable to even move his head for a nod, mouthed his OK, and then, just like that, he stopped to exist.


	30. Electrostatic

Slash was used to waking up without Axl. Falling asleep without him, however, was something he was fast forgetting how to do, and so it had taken him longer than usual, until he had finally been able to find some rest. Therefore, he was still drowsy when the beeping of the intercom woke him up. 

“Axl’s not here,” he muttered, trying, after a look at the clock, to hide under the blanket. 

“I know, he’s with me,” Izzy’s voice, far too chipper at this ungodly hour, came back. 

Shouldn’t Izzy be asleep as well? Not even Duff would be up and around, yet, and he was really an early bird. 

“Then why are you calling?” Slash grunted into the pillows.

“Huh? Slash? Do you have your head up your ass? ‘cause I don’t get a word of what you’re saying. Anyway, I need you to come to sick bay in … uhm … twenty minutes and pick up Axl.”

“What?” Slash sat upright. “What’s wrong? Is he hurt?”

“Nah, he needed treatment. Just started the cycle.”

“Again?” Slash asked, feeling uneasy. It may seem like a decade at least that he had dug around inside Izzy’s smashed arm, but in fact it hadn’t even been two months ago. 

“Yeah. He came tonight, said he didn’t want to delay. And, honestly, I’m not questioning him. We got it out of the way this morning. But I don’t want him to run into anybody while he’s this vulnerable. So you come here, pick him up and stay with him in his cabin until he’s himself again. OK?”

“Yeah, sure.” Slash rubbed his hands over his face, forcing himself to fully wake up. “Twenty minutes, you said?”

“Twenty minutes. No earlier.”

The connection died. 

“OK.” He confirmed nevertheless.

No earlier? Slash had never been there for Axl’s treatment, the whole thing being something private between him and Izzy, but being told to stay the fuck away, hurt a little bit. Sure, he wasn’t Izzy, Axl’s bridge over troubled waters, but he had thought they had developed a connection over all the lengthy descriptions of whaling and seafaring in a time nobody even remembered, leave alone cared about. 

Being shut out had one benefit though: It left him at least enough time for a coffee. Slash dragged himself out of bed and into the general direction of the bathrooms, where he ran into Duff who was staring full of exasperation into the mirror, while smoothing his hair down with brute force. 

“You up, too?” he asked, automatically checking for bitemarks on Duff’s naked upper body. 

It hadn’t happened again so far, and Slash didn’t want to think too much about what went down between those two, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. He tried to reconcile the hunched over, terrified, but resigned kid who had joined them on Pitraria with the current version of Duff, tall, self-confident, and getting his kicks out of rough sex and domination games.

“Axl showed up at Izzy’s tonight.” Duff looked into the mirror and wrinkled his nose at how electrostatic made his hair defy gravity. Duff’s hair and the supersonic shower were playing their own domination game and as far as Slash knew, the shower was always winning. “No idea what was the problem, but I couldn’t really fall asleep afterwards. So I got up.”

“Treatment,” Slash said. “They’re at it right now.”

“Oh.” Duff turned around. “Again? Is that normal?”

Slash shrugged. “More or less. We always hope for longer, but it’s not totally outside of normal.”

Duff worried his lip. “We should make sure he doesn’t run into Jari. At least not today.”

“I’ve received orders to keep him out of harm’s way.” Slash moved towards the shower. “Start the coffee machine?” 

“Yeah, sure.”

It was exactly twenty minutes, one shower and two mugs of coffee later when Slash showed up at the sick bay. Axl sat on the stretcher, nursing a bottle of water. 

“Hey,” Slash said. “All OK?”

“Peachy. He’s all yours,” Izzy said and slapped him on the shoulder on his way out. “Don’t leave him alone for even a minute,” he whispered. 

And then he stopped, turned around and gave him such a dark look that Slash wondered why the fuck he wasn’t taking care of Axl himself, if he didn’t believe him to be up to the job. 

“You can always call me if something goes wrong, OK? But I think… ,” he took a deep breath. “I think he might want you, today and as I have to take care of something … yeah.”

Then he all but stormed off, and Slash was left alone with a version of Axl, he hadn’t much experience with. 

“Where are we going?” Axl asked when Slash wrapped his arm around his waist and made him hop down. 

“Back to sleep,” Slash said. 

It was the first time he got to handle Axl after treatment, and while he felt almost honoured by the trust placed into him, it was also scary. Axl followed along like a puppet, even holding on to Slash’s hand as he led him back to their cabin.

They settled on the bed, and while Slash was now used to Axl snuggling up with him, this was different. There were no inhibitions, no tension anywhere, nothing of the strain he could normally feel under Axl’s skin. Axl just slumped against him like a tired puppy and sighed contently. 

So what now?

What did Izzy even normally do with Axl? He took him to the bridge, mostly, and then? When they emerged again, Axl was usually back to his old self, so Slash’s experiences in the handling of post-treatment Axl were limited to nothing. Duff would probably have an idea. Duff was really good with Axl. Scratch that, Duff was good with everybody. But somehow, he didn’t want to resort to outside help. He was determined to manage this on his own. 

Just going back to sleep was not an option. He was after all charged with watching over Axl and as far as he knew, Axl didn’t sleep after treatment either. Having him wander off was a risk he couldn’t take. 

“How about I read you some of that book?” Slash suggested, for lack of ideas.

“OK,” Axl said, but Slash was sure, he would have agreed to anything. 

“Yeah, where were we?” 

He fished the screen out of the nightstand drawer and flicked it on, then held it against Axl’s bracelet for authorization. It took him a moment to find the correct paragraph because saying that he really listened to what Axl was reading would be an exaggeration. He liked Axl’s voice and the intimacy of it all. 

Sometimes Axl forced him to partake in one of his deep-meaning discussions of things he had never thought about and, if he was honest, didn’t care to think about either. But whenever a paragraph made him halt, he would refuse to read on until Slash had come up with an opinion about it himself. Therefore, he had started to make an effort, so that the gentle roll of words would continue. And maybe also, because it made Axl happy. 

“For, thought Starbuck,” he read, wondering again why nobody bothered to translate this fucking monstrosity of literature into an easier to understand language, “I am here in this critical ocean to kill whales for my living, and not to be killed by them for theirs; and that hundreds of men had been so killed Starbuck well knew.”

He read for a while, when he eventually realized that a hand was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, moving it up and down and rubbing over his belly in the process. Eventually Axl just slipped his hand under the fabric and left it there. Maybe he needed skin contact, Slash thought, not thinking much about it. Izzy had once told him that Axl got different after treatment, not just confused and pliant, but sucking up affection as if trying to make up for all the years he had to do without. 

But it didn’t stop at that. After a while, Axl started to make small, circling movements on his belly and when that didn’t stop, Slash put the screen down. 

“Axl?” he asked softly. 

He wanted nothing more than to indulge him, but he wasn’t sure if Axl was fully aware of what he was doing. If this was all just post-treatment behaviour, then he would be absolutely embarrassed by all of it, once he was himself again. Which, according to Izzy, shouldn’t even take that long, an hour or two, perhaps. Slash checked the clock, and, yes, they were already past the first hour. Maybe something was wrong and the side effects were prolonged? Or heavier? Maybe he should call Izzy. 

“Why did you stop?” 

Axl looked up to him, expression unguarded, eyes soft and a faint smile around his lips. He sat up straight, but didn’t remove his hand from under Slash’s T-shirt, as if he wasn’t even aware where it was. 

“I think I need a break,” Slash said. “My voice is getting a bit … uhm…,”

“Oh, sure.” 

He laid his head onto Slash’s shoulder, and Slash started to wonder if she should do something to separate them. This weird tenderness he had felt for days now was back full force, and to his horror he realized that he was growing hard. 

That had happened once before. Slash had claimed urgent business and had fled to some place where he could take care of the issue. But Izzy had told him to not leave Axl alone for as much as a second, so even a quick jerkoff somewhere was out of the question. 

One thing however, he did know. If Axl realized what was happening, he would not only be mortified, worse, he would feel betrayed. Sleeping in the same room, leave alone the same bed, would be a no go from there on. 

“Axl,” he said, and tried to separate them from each other. 

He had at least to get the comforter between them somehow, anything to stop Axl from rubbing directly against him. Fuck, did he do that with Izzy, too? And if so, why hadn’t Izzy told him? This would have been important information to have. 

Suddenly he was very aware not only of Axl’s hand under his shirt, but also their legs perfectly aligned next to one another and his whole fucking body pressed against his side. 

“Yeah?” Axl looked up again. 

‘Move a bit,’ Slash had planned to say, but when he looked into Axl’s grey-green eyes, noticed the perfect cut of his cheekbones, the spray of freckles over his nose, the slightly parted lips, he couldn’t bring out the words. Instead he leant forward and kissed him, and just when he expected a fist into the face, Axl kissed him back. 

+++

Duff was eating breakfast when Izzy joined him. Lis was there, too, nursing a cup of coffee. This was unfortunate as the thing he had to discuss was not meant for the ears of anybody else. In addition, he was not sure that he would still be able to bring it up if he delayed for too long. And too long meant, more than five minutes. 

“Morning, babe,” Izzy said. 

He grabbed Duff’s chin, forced his head around and kissed him long and deep and hard. Then he went to get his own coffee as if this was just their general morning routine. Lis’ face turned red, but not yet red enough. He returned to where Duff was sitting, pressed himself against his back, coffee in one hand, and ran the other one through Duff’s hair, playing with the strands, as if he was thinking about what to do to him next. 

Duff turned his head, looking a little confused, but didn’t object. 

“Morning,” he said, eying him critically, as if checking for early signs of a mental breakdown. 

Lis did her best to appear unaffected, but she didn’t manage. She was probably compiling a mental report to the Slave Welfare Organization. Or, in case something like that didn’t exist, plan the imminent foundation of one. It would be right up her area, Izzy thought. She could organise charity balls and hold flaming speeches in front of a rapt audience. Yeah, while well dressed, well behaved slaves served the refreshments. 

“I’m sorry we got cut short tonight,” Izzy mumbled, while he bent down and buried his nose in Duff’s hair. 

“We did?” Duff looked up surprised. “I thought we finished all right.”

Lis had enough. She stood up and stormed out of the kitchen, coffee forgotten on the table. 

“She could at least for once remember to clean up after herself,” Duff said with a sigh. “Axl OK? All went well?”

“News travel fast, huh?” Izzy thought about sitting down, but he needed a bit of distance for this discussion. “Yeah, all went well.”

He leant against the counter, looking pensively into his mug, while Duff waited expectantly. Then Izzy closed the door, locked it from the inside and sat down on the opposite bench. Duff sat up straight in surprise. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” Izzy still stared into his mug. 

Duff waited, until the silence became oppressive. 

“Izzy.” He reached out and put a hand onto the other’s arm. “Talk to me, man.”

Izzy couldn’t look at him. He stared to the side, then at the wall, until he noticed how Duff started to look into the same direction in mute desperation. 

“You start to scare me,” Duff finally said. 

“Axl talked to you about Goral,” Izzy suddenly brought out.

“Uhm, yeah?” Duff scratched his head. “I wouldn’t call it ‘talk about’. Axl has mentioned it in passing.”

“Do you want to go?”

“Do I want to go where?” 

“Goral.”

Duff startled. “Why would I go there?” he asked back. 

Izzy gave him an exasperated look. “To be free, Duff.”

“Uhm, sure.” Duff shrugged. “But it’s not possible, is it? So …” 

“I … think I could make sure you got past the border.”

“You…,” Duff looked as if he didn’t understand what he was hearing. “Are you all right, Izzy? I mean, you didn’t happen to get some of Axl’s shock therapy channelled into your own brain, did you?” 

“I’m asking you,” Izzy said slowly, doing his best to use smaller words, “if you want me to help you get past the border to Goral. Where you would be free.”

“We’re going to Goral?” Duff asked again. “I thought…,”

“Not we,” Izzy replied, doing his best to keep his emotional turmoil from creeping into his voice. “’cause once you’re over, that’s it. There’s no coming back for you or for me and probably not for Slash and Axl either, ‘cause after we pull this stunt, we shouldn’t get close to my clan ever again. So, it would be you. To be free. But I can’t drag everybody along, that would be unfair.”

“But …,” Duff still wasn’t getting it, and Izzy really, really wished he wouldn’t force him to go into more detail. This was hard enough for him as it was. “What would I be doing past the border when everybody stays behind? 

“You could go with the others.” He made a gesture that was rude enough that Duff should know who ‘the others’ were. “Until you reach the first planet, at least. Apart from that, you would be on your own.”

Duff rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, looking steamrollered. 

“You don’t have to say anything now.” Izzy stood up. “Think about it. I won’t retract the offer. It stands. But you have to make that decision before we reach Chomo. I’ll need Aino to pull off that stupid plan of hers. Once we get rid of them, the chance will be gone. It’s a onetime situation, so do me a favour and really think about what you want.”

“Yeah, sure,” Duff said, still looking like he had been woken out of some bizarre dream. 

Izzy nodded and exited the room, leaving Duff to stare into his protein pap. He closed the door behind himself, trying to give Duff some privacy to think. And then, when he had just made a few steps down the corridor, he heard a loud crash. It sounded like a bowl full of protein flakes that had been smashed against the wall. 

+++

Axl and Slash stared at each other, their faces maybe two inches apart. 

“Fuck,” Axl gasped.

His heart was racing and there was such a loud beeping in his ears that for a moment he feared he had to ask for another round of treatment right away. 

“I’m sorry!” Slash exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t … I wasn’t … I … I…”

“Fuck!” Axl repeated. 

And then he just kissed Slash a second time, pressed his lips against his mouth and … had absolutely no idea what to do next. He pulled back and looked at Slash, waiting for a prompt, a reaction, anything but this wild deer-in-the-headlight-stare he was getting. 

“I’m sorry,” Slash repeated, “I didn’t mean to…,”

“Yeah, fuck, I did!” Axl interrupted him. Then he sat back in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You … you did?” Slash stuttered. 

Axl didn’t reply. He knew what this was about. Of course, he knew. Izzy hadn’t wanted to fuck him and Slash wouldn’t want either, not even if he offered. He didn’t even have breasts, for fuck’s sake, and Duff had said that Slash liked breasts. 

OK, so technically he hadn’t offered, yet, and he wasn’t sure he would offer at all, but Izzy had told him that sex started with kissing and that’s what they had done. Fuck, Slash had started it. Kissing was supposed to get someone unwilling into the mood. 

If there had ever been somebody unwilling, it was Axl and Slash had kissed him, so what the fuck else was he supposed to make out of this shit? Maybe Slash had just forgotten for a moment what he was, and now he had remembered. Yeah, that had to be the reason.

“Axl, you … are you mad at me or not?”

“Why would I be mad?” Axl asked back. “It’s not like you’re the first to feel repulsed. I can’t help it, I am what I am, OK? Make up your fucking mind.” 

One might think he should be used to people’s disgust, but it never stopped being painful. And if he was honest, it had caught him by surprise, and that hurt even more. Showed that he had gotten too trusty. He had really believed that Izzy and Duff and Slash, that they were Ok with his origin. He had indulged in the idea that here at least, he was accepted. Time to get his head out of the clouds, or so it seemed. 

“Axl?” 

“Yeah, that’s my name, you don’t have to repeat it every other second, I won’t forget it.” 

It wasn’t even his name. Maybe they should start calling him by his registration number again. Would be more fitting. 

“Oh… OK,” Slash said. “Look at me.”

Axl didn’t. He just kept staring into his lap. He wouldn’t look at anybody, not ever again. This was beyond embarrassing. His only saving grace was that Slash wasn’t outright laughing at him and his stupid ideas. He couldn’t even escape, because then he would run directly into Duff or Izzy or anybody else and everybody would see right away what had happened and that was more than he was able to take. 

“Please,” Slash repeated. 

“What for?” Axl snapped, but he did look up. 

He shouldn’t have. Slash’s expression was not shocked anymore, and definitely not disgusted. it was confused, puzzled and … if he interpreted it correctly … and he knew he wasn’t good at that … full of tenderness. No, that had to be wrong. 

Slash lifted a hand in slow motion and laid it onto his cheek. His thumb ran over his cheekbone, brushed over the corner of his mouth and then, just when Axl wanted to pull away and run, any encounters with other assholes be damned, Slash leant in and kissed him again, soft, gentle, their lips barely touching. 

Not sure what he was doing or why, Axl opened his mouth a little and there was the tiniest sweep of tongue over his teeth before Slash pulled back and cast him another quizzical look, as if he was a riddle he had to solve. 

“This OK?” he asked. 

Axl nodded. His heart was hammering and his breath was coming heavier. He had agreed. Slash had asked, he had agreed and he couldn’t go back now. He started to pull down his pants, when Slash stopped him with both hands over his.

“What … not so fast, OK? We only just kissed. And not even really. No need to get all … naked.”

“Oh.” Axl let his hands sink. “I thought…,” 

He felt stupid and he didn’t like feeling stupid. It made him angry and if it wasn’t so soon after treatment, he knew he wouldn’t be sitting here and suffer through his embarrassment. Instead Izzy would be reading him the riot act for smashing yet another room. 

“I only know how Izzy is doing it with Duff, OK?” he said, wishing he wouldn’t feel so defensive. “And they got naked pretty fast.”

“We’re not…,” Slash sat back and gave him another deer-in-the-headlight-look. It was growing old quickly. “We’re not … that far ahead,” Slash stuttered. “I mean … we might, eventually, but not … not now and probably not for quite some time.”

Axl gave him a dubious look. “You kissed me,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Slash agreed. 

“To get me in the mood for fucking.”

“No!” Slash protested. “No, not at all. I only kissed you because … I wanted to kiss you. Nothing more.”

“Just kissing for the sake of kissing,” Axl repeated. 

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

There was no reason to just press lips against each other. It absolutely made no sense, unless it was supposed to lead to something else, to one of them … or both of them, as he had learned by now … getting their rocks off. 

Slash shrugged helplessly. “Because it feels nice. Didn’t … it didn’t feel nice to you?”

Axl thought about it. It had felt nice, if he was honest. Soft, warm, caring somehow. He had liked the gentleness about it, Slash’s hands on his face, touching him as if he would break if he held him too roughly. It had been similar to how he massaged his head when Axl was reading to him, as if there was another purpose behind it than simply to ease the itching that tormented him whenever he wound down after a stressful day. 

“It was OK,” he finally said. “I guess I didn’t do it often enough to fully make up my mind about it.”

“Would you …,” Slash asked, “… would you like to try again?”

“Yeah,” Axl replied after a moment of consideration. “Yeah, why not. Can’t hurt.”

He made no move to follow through though, just waited until Slash took his face into his hands and kissed him again.


	31. Ultimate Reinforcer

Technically Duff should be working. He had opened his to do list and started at the top, then decided he wasn’t up to that task, looked at the second, the third, fourth and came to the conclusion that he wasn’t up to any of those. 

He closed the list and stared at the generator in the middle of engine room 1. For once he understood Axl’s tendency to smash things. Throwing his bowl had been a cathartic moment, but sadly hadn’t provided much of a long-term relief. The need to repeat at a higher level grew with every minute. But if he knew one thing, then that going on a rampage in the engine room was not a good idea. He would go on a rampage on the bridge, instead. 

Never in his time onboard the XXG had he climbed all those ladders and staircases at such a speed. When he was finally up at the top level, he was sweating and panting and still ready to put his fist through a wall. 

Izzy was sitting in the pilot’s seat and turned around in surprise when Duff entered. 

“Do you want to get rid of me?” Duff asked, before Izzy had the chance to say anything. 

“I … no,” Izzy replied. “No, I don’t want to get rid of you.”

“Then why are you telling me all this shit?” Duff yelled. “About … about ... being free and shit.” He wanted to kick something, but there was nothing to kick except stuff that wouldn’t react well to kicking and he wasn’t that far gone yet. 

Izzy fiddled with the system, probably switching to autopilot, before he stood up and came over to where Duff was standing. 

“If I wanted to get rid of you,” he said, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking anywhere but at Duff, “I wouldn’t go through all the hassle that comes with trying to get a slave to Goral. I would just sell you.”

“Asshole!” Duff spat. “Really, you’re such an asshole, Izzy! Axl always said, but I never believed him.”

Izzy didn’t laugh. He didn’t get angry either. But he did look at him now. 

“I’m an asshole for offering you your freedom?” he asked. 

“Yeah!” Duff yelled. “Why now? When I … I … fuck, you said I was yours!”

“You are.”

“And you said you would keep what was yours!”

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Then why the fuck do you want me to go away?”

“I don’t want you to go away,” Izzy said. 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and came a step nearer, but he still kept a healthy distant. Good for him. Duff was sure he would hit him if he as much as attempted to touch him. 

“I’m just trying to give you a choice.”

“Yeah, fuck you and fuck your fucking choices!” 

Duff felt his anger evaporate and make room for the despair it had masked. The anger had been better, he decided and tried to pull it back up again. 

“I know it’s a bad moment,” Izzy said. “But it’s a one-time opportunity because I need my psychotic wife to make it happen. The chance won’t come back. Not ever, Duff. I would feel like shit if I wasn’t offering it to you. Doesn’t mean I want you gone. Fuck, I’d much rather have you stay, but that would be fucking selfish.”

“Then be selfish!” Duff yelled, but Izzy shook his head. 

“Can’t be,” he said. “Not when it’s about you.”

“Come with me!” Duff played his last joker. 

Izzy looked unhappy at that suggestion. Of course, asking him to leave everything behind, the life he had built up out of nothing, all for the sake of some kid who had warmed his bed for a while, was a bit much. 

“I have the others to think about,” he said. “Slash can’t just go elsewhere with faked papers. Even the good ones tend to fall through sooner or later and his are not the best. I don’t have the connections to get him better ones. And don’t even get me started on Axl, ‘cause he’s the real problem. I have no idea if I could keep him in antidote supplies over there. I never checked out the logistics of anything at Goral. I scouted it out a bit as a teenager, but just because I was curious, not because I had plans. I could probably make enough money to keep you all fed, but apart from that? No idea. I don’t know fucking anything!”

“But you want me to go?” Duff asked upset. “All on my own?”

“I don’t want you to go!” Izzy now yelled. “I want you to stay, here with me, but I can’t guarantee that that’s going to be forever and then what? But one thing I do know: I wouldn’t even have suggested it if I didn’t think you could make it. You’re smart, you’re streetwise, you know how to survive. You have a good chance to get along. You just have to make up your fucking mind about what you want!”

“If I go, I can’t come back, right?” Duff asked. “Not ever?”

“No. You’d be a runaway slave. If you came back, you’d end on an industrialized planet and be dead within a year. Even if I tried to cover up that I lost you, it would come out the next time I have to dock in somewhere. They’ll realize that somebody is missing from my crew and I have no proof of sales. Latest then I’ll have to make an official report or we’d all be in trouble.”

“Fuck,” Duff said, and then his carefully nurtured anger went down the drain and despair took over with vengeance. “What kind of fucking choice is that?” he sobbed, unable to keep the floodgates closed. He all but collapsed on the floor and just kept crying. 

Izzy sat down next to him and without a word pulled him into his arms. Duff clawed his hands into his shirt and didn’t bother that he was covering him in snot and tears. Eventually he calmed down enough to feel embarrassed and sat up. He wiped his sleeve over his face and looked at Izzy. 

“You know there is only one decision I can make,” he said, and a new wave of despair threatened to roll over him. 

“I know,” Izzy said. 

“Anything else would be … would be …,”

“Impossible,” Izzy said. “I know.”

“Fuck!” Duff collapsed back into Izzy’s arms. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“I know.”

He felt Izzy’s mouth somewhere in his hair. 

“I’m happy here. I’ve never been this happy in my entire fucking life, and don’t fucking tell me that you know!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know about that,” Izzy replied and Duff boxed him against his chest. 

“Asshole!” 

“Yeah.” This time Izzy did laugh a little bit. “Guess that’s me.”

Duff sat up. 

“It’s still quite a bit of time,” Izzy said. “It’s another month until Chomo, then we have to get to the border, which will take … ugh… ages. Then we have to play that charade for my family and I have no idea how much time that will take, or if it will even play out. It’s not like I can just send you off with a lunch box and a pat on the back. If we get this over within a year, it will be fast.”

“OK,” Duff said, calming down a bit. A year was a long time. Anything could happen in a year. “So … until then?”

“Until then …,” Izzy scratched his jaw. “I’d say we prepare you as good as possible, but I have no idea how or even what for.”

“Awesome,” Duff said. 

Maybe he should still think it over. But deep down inside he knew, had known from the moment Izzy had dropped the bomb on him, that he would have to go. Even that he considered to just stay a slave showed how deep he had slipped into the wrong mindset. 

He had started to be comfortable as Izzy’s slave, had completely stopped considering anything else as even desirable, and that was not who he was. He was being brainwashed, whether on purpose or just as a side effect, but fact was: it had happened. This was the wakeup call he had needed. 

“OK,” Izzy said, and stood up. 

Duff followed. He wiped the last bit of snot off his face, straightened his shoulders, set his jaw, and then he punched Izzy square in the face. 

“That’s for … everything,” he said full of belligerence. “From the whole fucking beginning.” 

He expected, even hoped that Izzy would retaliate, yell at him, hit him, whatever, but Izzy just dapped at his bleeding lip before he looked up and grinned. 

“I was wondering how long it would take you to do that. Honestly, I would have hit me ages ago.”

“Yeah,” Duff replied. “Guess I’m a bit slow on the uptake.” 

“No, you’re not. But we need to work on your fighting skills. That hit was weak.”

“Strong enough. Here, let me …,” Duff pulled the cleaning rag out of his back pocket and wiped the blood off Izzy’s chin. Great, now he had left oil stains instead. “I should get you some ice, I suppose.”

He searched in his pockets for something clean, but Izzy put a hand under his chin and made him look up. 

“Already in full duty mood again, huh? We need to train that out of you. Stop thinking as a slave. Really. We have a year to get you back into the right attitude. This was a good start, but not much more.”

Duff gave him a wary look. “Want me to punch you each time you say something stupid?”

“Only if you’re prepared to take as good as you give. This was a freebie, Duff, next time I won’t just hold still.” 

“I’m not sure I still know how to be free,” Duff admitted. “I can’t even say when it happened, but somehow … somewhere … I mean … look at Axl. He’s been a slave all his life, but I don’t think he’ll ever be so … so fucking … fucking…”

“Docile?” Izzy asked. “Submissive? Obedient?”

“Yeah, go on,” Duff muttered. “Rub it in.”

“It’s a really old trick, Duff,” Izzy said. 

He returned to the pilot seat and patted the armrest. Duff followed and sat down on it, leaning a little into Izzy’s shoulder. 

“Sorry, I guess, but you never stood a chance.”

“What trick?”

“You take somebody out of a really shitty situation. Then you threaten them with making it almost just as shitty. But you never follow through. Instead you start making little concessions. You don’t make life all peachy all at once, you hand out pittances. But you do that consistently. You build up gratefulness for things nobody even should be grateful for. And you make sure they know all these benefactions are coming from you and only you. Without you everything would be just as shitty as before. First comes gratefulness, then dependence and finally true loyalty and obedience. And, sorry Duff, but you have reached that stage.”

“You mean… you did that on purpose?” Duff asked. 

“Works every fucking time. So, don’t beat yourself up. It’s just the 101 of slave training. I grew up with this shit. I know how to do it. In fact, I do it without even thinking about it. And, by the way, I did it with Axl, too. And it worked just as well. Axl may still seem wild and rebellious to you, but he came around from so far away, I was baffled myself at how far I got him. I have trained you both. I closed all alternative roads, until all you could do was walk down the way I wanted you to go. I just left you with the illusion that you were choosing that path out of free will.”

“Asshole,” Duff said. 

“Yeah, Duff, that’s me. Told you so.”

“You succeeded, you know. I started to fucking want to obey you. Just to make you happy. In fact, making you happy was pretty much all I still had on my mind.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Izzy said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “That one time I tied you up. I really, really thought you would push back. Instead you totally got off on it. That’s when I realized that you were losing yourself and that … has never been my intention. I blame it on all the sex. I’ve never done it that way and it has accelerated things quite a bit. I didn’t expect you to be … so…”

“Such a slut,” Duff finished for him. He laughed a little bitterly. “You can say it, I know I am.”

“Yes, you are,” Izzy agreed, but from him it sounded fondly. “One more year and I would have turned you into the perfect slave, just by fucking you into submission. My absolute masterpiece. Maybe I should write a manual about it. Anyway, I realized that I didn’t want that. So… sorry, I guess.” 

Duff huffed. “Sorry’s not gonna be enough.”

“Probably not. So, what are you gonna do?”

“I should tell Axl about this.”

Izzy shrugged. “Axl knows.”

“He…”

“He’s … uhm … a bit faster on the uptake than you.”

Duff punched him on the arm. 

“Keep your violence in check, I’m still your captain,” Izzy admonished. “Anyway, yes, Axl knows. That’s what happens if you give a slave free reign over the library. They read up on shit they shouldn’t know. But he also knows that he’s lacking alternatives. You could have punched me ages ago, but you only did when you realized there might be a way out. Yesterday I could have told you all this and you would have just accepted it as your future. You would have told yourself that it might be a little perverted, but still better than presenting your ass for every spacer who happens to come by the brothel you had been sold to. Now you have a chance at freedom and all of a sudden, you’re getting angry. Axl doesn’t have a way out and never will. This is all he will ever get and he’s more or less living with it.”

Duff huffed again. “If this works so well…” and it had worked well, as embarrassing as it was, “… then why doesn’t everybody do it like this? Sorry, but with the amount of whipping I’ve seen, it doesn’t seem as universally known as you say.”

Izzy shrugged. “Takes too much time. And patience. Lots of patience. And consistency. And some people like to be seen as hard-assed. The whip works faster, but it’s also less reliable.”

“Seems very reliable to me,” Duff replied. 

“Depends. If all you need is some mindless labourer, yes, the whip is faster. If you want somebody you can trust? Not so much. Look at yourself. Before I got you, you just worked around punishments. Fearing the whip made you avoid consequences, but it didn’t make you willing. In fact, by pretending to be stupid you lost value and nobody even noticed. And Axl? With Axl the results were diametrically opposite from what they wanted. There is always the one who can’t be broken, and, honestly, I may be a bastard, but I don’t think I could bring up that level of brutality even if I wanted to. So, I guess, this suits my personality better.”

“You know what, Izzy?” Duff said. “You’re evil. Down to your tar-black soul.”

Izzy laughed. “Yeah, I know. Still, question is, how do we move on from here?”

“What do you mean?” Duff asked. “You said we still had a year…”

“What I’m asking is,” Izzy said with a sigh, “do you want a break from me? I can fully assign your workload to Slash, if you like.”

“No!” Duff exclaimed. “Fuck, don’t start this shit again.”

“Huh?”

Duff climbed over the seat and tried to settle in Izzy’s lap. It was a bit impractical because of the armrests, but it helped that he had really long legs. He still had to put his hands onto Izzy’s shoulder for support before he found a halfway decent position. 

“Each time you get … dunno … a guilty conscience, the first thing you do is push me out of your bed.”

“I…,” Izzy’s hands settled on Duff’s hips. 

“Yeah. Remember this really, really weird talk we had?”

“We had a lot of weird talks, Duff, I can’t remember all of them.”

“Doesn’t matter. Point is: you created a monster. Now feed it. Make sure you keep me satisfied!”

“OK…,” Izzy said slowly. “You are aware how operant conditioning works? And that it turned out orgasming was your ultimate reinforcer? And that I used it against you?”

“Nope, I don’t know how … whatever … works. And I don’t care.”

“Duff!” Izzy said sternly. “I just explained it to you. Maybe you enjoyed your lessons, but the point is: I was training you, every step of the way. You just told me I was evil! And now you want me to just keep doing it?”

Duff huffed exasperated. “I’m not going cold turkey, here. You knew I have an addictive personality. It’s in my file. And you exploited that. Least you can do is wean me off slowly.”

Izzy laughed and Duff couldn’t help to join in. 

“You’re impossible, Duff. I…”

Duff bent forward and kissed Izzy. “I have one more year of you,” he whispered between nibbling his lips. “I want that one year and I say: behind closed doors everything stays just as it is.”

“And outside closed doors?” Izzy asked, without pulling back. 

“I don’t know. You said you want me to stop behaving like a slave. If I’m not your bed slave anymore, then what am I?”

“My lover,” Izzy all but breathed the words into his mouth. “If you want to be.”

Duff went all gooey inside and smiled, which made Izzy grow hard against his ass. Ultimate reinforcer, he thought sardonically. Izzy had about as much control over his dick as Duff had over his. 

“Behind closed doors,” he whispered, just to test the theory that Izzy wasn’t half as much in control as he liked to pretend, “you’ll do your fucking duty as my master. I expect some proper domineering. Understood?”

“Yes,” Izzy gasped against his mouth. 

“Good. Because for a moment I really thought you were trying to shirk your responsibilities.”

Duff granted him a last deep swipe of tongue and then he sat back. 

“And make sure you shower before I come to your cabin tonight. I’m really fed up with having to get you presentable first half the fucking the time.”

“You enjoy cleaning me up,” Izzy protested. 

“I do,” Duff admitted, wriggling around on Izzy’s hard dick and getting some perverse satisfaction out of the expressions that produced on his face. “But, sorry to say, body hygiene is not your strong point, Izzy. And once I’m gone, nobody is going to take care of that, so I intent to train you to do it yourself. As a favour for my successor.”

“There won’t be a successor,” Izzy said. 

Duff wanted to make some throwaway comment about the likelihood of that happening, but Izzy’s face was so earnest, that he swallowed it down.


	32. Just Like That

Something had changed. Axl couldn’t yet say what exactly, but something was off. 

He had lazed about for most of the day. It was the only good thing about treatment, he always got the rest of the day off. That and the weird feeling of contentment that came over him afterwards. 

Regarding the latter he was a bit torn. On the one hand it felt good to not worry for a change, to just float in the moment and trust that things would turn out well. To have people coddle him and actually enjoy it. To just feel like one big stuffed toy animal. On the other hand, he was well aware that this wasn’t him. It was an artificial feeling, like being drugged. It made him easy to handle and if there was one thing he didn’t like, it was being malleable. 

Then there had been all that kissing and he wasn’t sure if it was himself who had agreed to it or his post-treatment-docile self. By now It was late afternoon and he still thought it had felt good, which was reassuring somehow. But there was a tiny grain of doubt left, and no amount of thinking made him come to a decision about whether his hesitance was justified or not.

He would have to go into greater detail about it next time he was alone with Slash. 

Yeah, and now he had something else that wasn’t as it should be. Duff was distracted and there was no reason.

After hours of cuddling, Slash had delivered Axl to the kitchen and handed him over to Duff, impressing on him that he was not to be left alone, under no circumstances. Axl had rolled his eyes at that. Yes, directly after treatment he was in a bit of a daze and not fully able to make sensible decisions, but ten hours? Not even Izzy was that careful. 

Duff, however, had just nodded, had kept cutting up stuff and, in addition, his fingers. Twice already. After the second time Axl had just tossed the skin glue onto the counter and left it there for future incidents. Duff hadn’t commented on that either. 

He was usually quite talkative, but not today. He wouldn’t smile either, or roll his eyes or make weird comments about the dish they were cooking, and how they should be adding ingredients to it that had existed once in the olden days, but definitely not within the last three centuries. 

Then Izzy had appeared, had gotten himself some coffee and on the way out, he had ruffled Duff’s hair and kissed him onto his cheek. Duff had promptly hacked into his finger a third time and Axl had taken the knife away from him to finish. 

Izzy was hardly ever openly affectionate with Duff. Maybe sometimes, when they were watching movies together, and when there was alcohol involved, and when Duff had passed from slightly inebriated to completely drunk, then it might happen that Duff cuddled up to Izzy, and Izzy would indulge him. 

Definitely not while passing through the kitchen.

Now, after the endeavour to rescue Duff’s remaining fingers had put an end to his active involvement in dinner preparation, he was staring into a mug of tea and crumbled cookie crumbs all over the table. 

“OK,” Axl finally said when Duff had started sighing in addition to brooding. “Tell me. Now. You suck at keeping things to yourself, so don’t try. What did Izzy do?”

“Nothing, really, this time.” Duff sighed again. “What is an operating conditioner?”

“Oh, that.” Axl put the knife away and sat down, too. Dinner would be late, fuck them. “Operant conditioning, you mean. You found out?”

“Izzy told me.”

“Wow.” Axl scratched his head. “Just like that?”

Duff shrugged. 

“In the end it only means: if he rewards you for behaviour he likes, you are more likely to express the same behaviour again in the future. Or the other way round, if you get punished for a certain behaviour, then you’re less likely to show it in the future. I have to give Izzy that, he is fucking good at it.”

“That’s all?” Duff asked. “I thought it had to be something mega complicated.”

“It’s no space ship science.” Axl stood up and got himself a mug of tea. “The tricky thing about it is the kind of reward and the timing when it’s coming. He can’t just pat your head and give you a cookie, or something. He’s got to find the fitting reward for every single kind of behaviour he wants to get out of you, and he has to deliver it at the right moment. And that’s where Izzy is sadly, horribly precise. Mainly by letting you do something you really want to do, but are not sure you will be able to get away with. And at a moment when you’re in total emotional turmoil and it’s likely to make a huge impression. He got me like that … ugh … more often than I like to admit. And I fucking know that he’s doing it.” 

Pretty much happened the evening before, if he was honest. 

“Looks like I’m not that complicated,” Duff muttered. 

“Nah. You’re just naturally willing to please. That makes it so much easier for him. All he has to do is smile at you and you’re over the moon. So, why did he tell you?”

“He’s going to help me run away.”

Axl put his mug down. “Really? Goral?”

Duff nodded. 

“Wow. So we’re all going? Cool!”

“No, just me.”

Axl felt something cold settle in his stomach. “He’s only taking you? What … what about us?”

“What? No. Izzy’s not coming. He wants me to go with … them.”

Axl really tried to understand, but the words didn’t make sense. 

“No,” he finally said. “You got that wrong somehow.”

Duff ran both hands through his hair. “Believe me, Axl, I didn’t get anything wrong. I yelled at him, I cried snot all over him, I hit him in his fucking face…”

“Finally!”

“… I didn’t get it wrong. He’s gonna help me get past the border, but I have to go on my own.” 

Axl shook his head. “No,” he said, and he meant it. “Not gonna happen. You’re not … not on your own.” He stood up and started pacing. “We’re all gonna go together or not at all. I’m gonna talk to him.”

“Axl, no,” Duff started, but Axl didn’t let him finish. 

“We’re a team. And we fucking look out for each other. That’s what Izzy says all the fucking time. Fuck, it’s what he’s hammered into our heads! And now he wants to send you all on your own into unknown territory? From which you can’t even come back? Just because he’s suddenly developed a conscience?”

“He has his reasons,” Duff said. “And they all sounded very … well, reasonable. Anyway, he’s not sending me, he’s offering me the chance. That’s different. The decision to go is mine, not Izzy’s. In fact, he says, he wants me to stay.”

“Uhuh,” Axl made, but it didn’t change his mind. 

They would all go. Period. There was still time enough to talk to Izzy and he would. He only had to get Slash on their side first. Which shouldn’t be too difficult. Slash’s bounty wouldn’t be valid at Goral, so he had a veritable reason to want to go. 

“We’ll better get dinner done,” Duff said. 

He looked tired, Axl thought. Not like somebody excited about upcoming freedom. Rather like a dog that had been tied to a lamppost and forgotten. 

“I’ll finish dinner,” he snapped. “You stay put and drink your fucking tea.” 

And then he wasn’t only preparing dinner, but also how to best tell Izzy what a colossal idiot he was. 

+++

When Duff came to knock at his door, Izzy had not only taken a shower, but also brushed his hair and put on clean clothes. From the daggers Axl had glared at him all evening he would say, Duff had blabbed. No miracle there, Duff was an open book and Axl was good at digging secrets out of people. 

He would have to talk to him eventually, but not today. Today he had another riddle to solve. First, why had Slash been looking so guilty all evening, and second, what the heck had Duff meant when he had demanded to be ‘properly dominated’?

Izzy didn’t think he had been overly domineering in bed. In fact, most of the time he had just laid back and let Duff do whatever he wanted to do, and maybe just pushed him a little bit into the desired direction. Sure, ninety-nine percent of the time he had decided when, if, where, how they would have sex, but did that already make him a tyrant? 

Fuck, they hadn’t even repeated that stupid bondage experiment and Izzy didn’t plan to do that anytime soon, for exactly that one reason: to not dominate him. Too much. A little bit of domination was good for Duff. He got too cocky otherwhile. 

But, as fun as it had been, it was too easy to get lost within shit like that, and Izzy had always tried to keep their playtime light hearted. To make sure Duff knew, his bed was the one place where he could just let go, didn’t have to follow orders, fuck, didn’t have to be a slave. 

And now Duff wanted to turn it around? Here he was ready to openly acknowledge him as his lover, treat him like a free person, and Duff reacted by demanding master/slave games in bed? Was he kidding him? 

Maybe Duff had a secret kink, but if that was the case, then Izzy would rather suspect it was bossing people around. Only Duff managed to demand to be dominated in a tone that brooked no contradiction. And what did it say about who was dominating whom that here he was sitting and wondering how to comply with that request? 

Izzy wasn’t done thinking when he heard the expected knock. Duff looked more composed than he had during dinner. Maybe the usual evening routine was enough to ground him. He smiled and without preamble wrapped his arms around Izzy’s neck. 

“This was a shit day,” he said and Izzy wholeheartedly agreed. 

“Want me to do something about it?”

Duff nodded against his shoulder and Izzy ran a hand through his hair. 

“Ok, then … sit.” He manoeuvred Duff onto the bed and climbed up after him. After that, he was at a loss. 

Duff looked at him expectantly and Izzy thought about just going through the motions, doing the usual kissing, petting, in hopes it would lead anywhere, when Duff pre-empted him and pressed his lips against his jaw. 

“Need some pointers?” he asked and Izzy nodded. 

With both hands on his shoulders, Duff pressed him down and straddled him the way he had done so often. He took off his shirt, giving Izzy some naked skin to run his hands over and got to work. Duff knew what he was doing, every step practiced countless times. Soon they were both naked and aroused. Duff fished the lube out of the nightstand drawer, and Izzy knew exactly what would be coming next. To his own surprise he realized, that he didn’t want that. 

“Fuck me,” he said softly.

Duff froze mid movement. 

“What?” 

Izzy reached up and tucked a couple of blond strands behind Duff’s ear. 

“Fuck me,” he repeated, as if it was just one of those things he routinely requested on a lazy evening. 

“You mean … like…,

“Yeah.”

Duff stared down at him, speechless for the moment. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, kid” Izzy growled. 

“I wouldn’t.” Duff smiled a little. “Spread your legs for me then,” he said and Izzy complied. 

Duff took his time. He wasn’t even getting near the critical area, just worked Izzy’s dick and balls with his hands, then dipped down and added his mouth to the equation, the way he often did. 

Izzy groaned softly when his cock came in contact with Duff’s talented tongue. His fingers turned a little more demanding, they were also slicker than was standard, and then he felt something slip between his cheeks. 

Izzy braced himself. He hadn’t done this in years and even back in the day he had never been one to just invite a dick up his ass. It made him feel vulnerable and that was a feeling he didn’t like at all. 

Duff’s fingertip moved in small circles, slipping in and out, but no more than maybe half an inch at a time. Izzy relaxed, adapted to the movement, and just when he thought it would go on like this forever, Duff pushed in. Izzy tensed, but an extra deft sucking on his dick was enough to make him forget for the moment. 

He couldn’t say that it felt comfortable, definitely not pleasurable, more like an intrusion. It wasn’t bad enough to fight it off, yet, and so he just yielded to the movement inside him. After a while the discomfort diminished and he was able to relax again. Duff took that as cue to try a second finger, and the discomfort was back. 

“When was the last time you did this?” Duff suddenly asked. 

Izzy opened his eyes and looked at him. Duff was crouching between his knees, hair all tousled around his head and fingers up his ass. 

“Been a while,” Izzy replied, trying to not give away that he was wondering whether he hadn’t made a hasty decision. 

“More than a year?”

“Make that … ugh… ten?” 

“Izzy!” Duff groaned. “That makes you practically a virgin.”

“It doesn’t!” Izzy protested. 

“Uhuh,” Duff made. “And how regularly have you been doing it? I mean, ten years ago?”

Izzy thought about it. “I think it was … three times?”

Duff gave him an incredulous look. 

“So, you’re about as experienced as … say … Axl?”

“Oh, come on!” Izzy protested. “You can’t compare that.”

“Yes, I can. And you should have told me that I was supposed to deflower your virginal ass, ‘cause…”

“Yeah, I know, you don’t do virgins.” To his surprise, Izzy felt a tiny stab of regret. He wasn’t a virgin. Just … out of practice. 

“Let me finish. I wanted to say, ‘cause we should go about this a little differently.”

He pulled his fingers out and Izzy yelped at the sudden movement. 

“You don’t have to do anything differently, you can just …”

Izzy shrieked, when Duff just rammed his fingers back up his ass. Fuck, that hurt. 

“No, I can’t,” Duff said and pulled out just as abruptly. What was he playing at, Chamber of a Thousand Tortures?

“I can take a little pain,” Izzy protested nevertheless. No way in hell was he going to show Duff that he might be right. 

“Pity, ‘casue I’m not gonna give it to you. Now shut up and roll over.”

It was official. Duff definitely didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘domineering’, if he thought he was currently expressing submissive slave behaviour. 

Izzy hesitated. Yes, he was used to Duff working over his back, but that was just medical necessity. During sex he usually made sure that they were facing each other. There was nothing sexy about his back and he didn’t want Duff to shift into service mode. 

“Come on!” 

Duff nudged against his side.

“I’d rather do this face to face.”

“But…,” Duff looked hesitant. “It’s easier from behind. I have more control about how deep I’m going and I also can determine the angle better. You know where your prostate is, right? Always difficult to hit like this.” 

“Don’t care.” Izzy replied stubbornly. 

It took Duff a while, but then he got it. 

“I like your back,” he said. “Not what has happened to you, of course, but I’m so familiar with every square inch of skin there, that I’m kind of enamoured with it. You definitely don’t have reason to feel shy. Not around me.”

Izzy gave in. Maybe he had done his best to train Duff, but he got the feeling, Duff had conditioned him about just as well. By giving him these ridiculously gentle looks, from his stupid puppy-dog-eyes. Like Izzy was the centre of his world, and all of Duff’s future happiness was depending on Izzy giving in to just this one especially stupid request he was making. 

He rolled over onto his side, facing away from Duff. Why the hell had he even started this? They could have just gone on as they had all the time and nobody would have minded at all. Now everything was awkward and embarrassing. 

“So.” Duff lay down next him. His hand travelled down Izzy’s side, then over to his belly and back to his cock, where it settled into a lazy rhythm. “As I said, this is gonna take … a different approach,” he whispered into Izzy’s ear. “I promise, before the night is over, you will have my dick up your ass, but we will do this on my terms.”

“Duff…,” Izzy started to protest, but Duff just hushed him again. 

He pushed a pillow under Izzy’s belly, then nudged him a bit more over until he lay halfway on his stomach, ass slightly raised, but cock still readily available. A knee nudged at his thighs, parting them until Duff could get between them. It made him feel even more exposed, but he was past protesting. 

Duff bent forward over his shoulder, until his mouth was back against his ear. 

“I’m the expert here,” he whispered, still stroking his cock. “I know what does and what doesn’t feel good. And I’ll make sure it will feel good for you, but that’s going to take a bit more than just a couple minutes of lube and stretching. You’re tense as fuck, Izzy, and I suppose those previous experiences have not been of the overwhelming kind, or else you would have done it again.”

It wasn’t far off, Izzy had to admit. Not that it had been horrible, it had even felt kind of good after a while, but not in a way that had prompted him to try again. Definitely not with whores and strangers he met in bars all over the galaxy. 

“Don’t worry, I will get you ready. But I will take my sweet time about it and you will show a little patience and let me do my job, OK?”

“OK.” Izzy swallowed. 

“Good. For now, all you have to do is shut off your brain and concentrate on how you’re feeling.”

After that, Duff thankfully shut up himself, and Izzy concentrated on staying in the moment. It was not his strongest talent, but after a while it worked. By now he was so used to Duff working him over that it hardly mattered where he applied his special brand of magic. He didn’t beat around the bush either, just returned to the body parts that mattered. With a few firm strokes Duff brought him back up and then there was a lot of … really a lot of … stroking and massaging and licking and kissing in areas Izzy usually didn’t grant anybody access to. 

Duff hadn’t exaggerated. He was taking his time. Whenever Izzy thought he was getting used to his fingers up his ass, they were gone again, leaving him feeling strangely bereft, until he started to welcome their return. Luckily they always did, usually with more lube, finding new spots to rub against, new ways to wriggle and move in and make him desire more. 

“I think we’ve got you where we need you to go,” Duff suddenly whispered. It was the first word he had spoken in an eternity and Izzy almost sat up in shock. Almost, for Duff’s hand was on his hip and kept him in place. “Can’t get you anymore ready than this, ‘m afraid. Still want to do it?”

“Yes,” Izzy gasped, and it wasn’t even a lie. The idea of just stopping now was ludicrous. 

Duff didn’t reply, but he shifted upwards until he was lying behind him. His cock, rock hard, moved up and down Izzy’s lube-slicked crack and that feeling alone was enough to make him moan. He hunched his shoulders, pushing back into Duff’s body, demanding more. 

“Eager?” Duff asked with a smug chuckle. But, fuck, Izzy admitted he had reason to be smug, he had gotten him from apprehensive to desperate. “Let’s give it to you then, hm?”

A hand pushed against his thigh, moved his leg further forward, and for a last time fingers pushed in and out of his hole. Then he felt the blunt tip of Duff’s cock and time froze around him. At first there was discomfort again. It simply had been too long and Duff wasn’t exactly small. 

To his relief, Duff didn’t stop, didn’t ask him if he was OK, or did any other of that overly considerate stuff, Izzy liked to do himself. He just pushed in until he was fully seated inside him.

“Breathe,” Duff whispered into his ear while he closed his fist once more around his cock and pumped in sync with the miniscule movements he was making. 

Izzy sucked in a shuddering breath, then another, and another, while Duff rocked him back and forward, his chest flush against his back. 

“You’re doing great,” Duff whispered into his ear. “Just like I imagined you would.”

He pulled out a little and pushed back in, did it again, and again and then he hit something deep inside Izzy and made him see stars. 

“Now I’ve got you,” Duff said and repeated the exact movement. 

Izzy pushed back against him, tried to get another hit, but Duff evaded him by just moving in sync. 

“Patience,” he gasped. “Give me a second, I just … just …” Duff was breathing heavily and then he adjusted himself a little bit, moved forward once more and Izzy’s brain turned into jelly.

Duff was moving steadily in and out now, hitting his prostate every fucking time. Izzy held on with pure determination. He wouldn’t give Duff the satisfaction to come first, no matter how much he worked him from both ends, he would be there until the very end. 

Outlasting Duff was not that much of a feat, but when Izzy felt him spill his seed inside him, he was only a hairsbreadth away from coming himself. 

“Sorry,” Duff whispered, when he slipped out, “I wanted to …” 

He rolled Izzy onto his back, determined to make up with his mouth and hands for what his cock was no longer capable of. With two fingers up his ass and Duff’s lips wrapped tightly around his dick, Izzy was gone, too. Duff swallowed, keeping the massage inside his ass up until the very last drop was gone, and then came up and stretched out next to him. 

Izzy lay like poleaxed. He was panting and gasping for air, while semen slowly trickled out of him, and why the fuck did that feel so insanely hot? If he wouldn’t be able to get hard anytime within the next twenty-four hours, but if, this feeling would do it right away. 

“You OK?” Duff asked, wiping Izzy’s hair back. 

Izzy opened his eyes and looked at him, hair wild around his flushed face, eyes sparkling, lips swollen. 

“What do I look like,” he asked and reached up to stroke his cheek. 

Duff leant into his hand, grinning over the whole face. 

“Well fucked, I’d say.”

“Got it in one, sugar. Kiss me. I’d do it, but I’m too done to move.”

Duff did him the favour, deep and thoroughly, just like he had fucked him, and then he wrapped himself around Izzy’s body. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

Izzy chuckled. “I think I’m the one who has to say thanks.”

“No, you don’t.” Duff played with his nipple ring, but not enough to be arousing. “That was … I… why did you even agree to it? You’d said…”

“I’ve said a lot of bullshit,” Izzy said. “Don’t take everything I say like the fucking gospel.”

He couldn’t answer that question, he just knew, that once Duff left, he didn’t want to have any regrets about things not done. He’d have enough regrets about things he had done. 

“But you liked it?” Duff asked, still not convinced. 

“I did.” 

“Enough to do it again?”

Izzy brushed a hand through his hair. “Now and then,” he said. It wasn’t something he would want every other day. It still made him feel far too vulnerable. But with Duff, he was willing to risk this vulnerability. Now and then at least. 

“That’s good. We should make sure you stay nice and loose then. Makes it easier when you want me to do it the next time. I can take care of that, when I’m doing your back anyway.”

Izzy laughed under his breath, knowing very well where any access cream and oil would go in future. Strangely enough he didn’t have a problem with the concept anymore. 

They lay entwined around each other for a couple more minutes before Duff developed enough energy to clean them both up. 

“I might have mentioned to Axl that you might think about letting me go,” he said, while he was washing sweat and sperm off Izzy’s body with a wet cloth. “Roll over, I still have to look after your back.”

“I know.” Izzy followed Duff’s nudging and spread out over the whole bed. “And I’m not thinking about letting you go, I’ll make sure you’ll manage.”

“He told you?” 

Hands on his back, again, but Duff kept it light and non-sexual. 

“No, just keeps glaring at me. And since I didn’t subject you to any nefarious acts lately … yeah, he won’t be happy about you leaving.”

“He thinks we should all go together.”

Izzy didn’t reply. All day he had played with the idea, had run at least a dozen different scenarios through in his head, had thought about how he could ensure Axl’s needs were met, about setting up a supply chain for the antidote across the border, finding illegal sources, getting his hands on the manufacturing instructions. 

It might be possible, but not as fast as he needed it to happen. If they had time to plan this undertaking, come back to it in five years or maybe even ten years, then he would have a chance to work something out. But they were acting on the spur of the moment. 

“I’ll talk to him.” Izzy sighed and rolled back onto his back. 

Duff settled beside him. “Maybe this time we should all talk about it together. You don’t always have to be the one to carry the whole burden on your own. That’s what friends are for, you know? They help you out.”

Friends? Izzy thought. He never thought of his crew as his friends. They were his family, he loved them more than anybody else, he would kill for them, if he had to, but he also was responsible for them. Forcing them to share the load was not fair to them.


	33. Et Tu Brute?

A day after that fateful first kiss, Slash was idly strumming his guitar in storage room 3. He was a bit early. Duff had let him know that Izzy had called in a crew meeting over lunch break, but he’d had some time to spare and felt he needed a minute away from all of them. 

He still wasn’t sure whether kissing Axl had been a mistake or not. There had been more kissing in the evening and he definitely had liked it, but, again, Axl had jumped the gun and offered sex after only a few minutes. Something in Izzy’s and Duff’s sex education course had gone severely awry and he didn’t know how to rectify that. 

Then there was the tiny, tiny aspect of Axl being Izzy’s property. Could he just act as if Axl was free or did he have to ask Izzy for permission? And what if he didn’t give it? And what if he gave it now and rescinded it later, because he decided Slash was not good for Axl? 

Was he good for Axl? Did he even want to be good for Axl? One thing was clear, if he started a … a … relationship? Was this a relationship? Anyway, if he started a relationship with Axl, he would have to pull through. Axl was nobody he could just try out and then decide wasn’t a good fit. It may still be possible to let him down gently, but not for much longer. 

As gruesome as the mere idea was, he came to the conclusion that he would indeed have to talk to Izzy. That bastard would find out anyway, and while Slash had a tendency to let things run until he found himself suddenly on a downhill road without breaks and a yawning abyss in front of himself, this time he needed help. 

He looked up when the door slid open and Izzy entered. Speak of the devil and all that. Izzy had the eerie ability to show up when one was thinking about him. 

“What are you doing here?” Izzy asked, looking a bit confused.

“Crew meeting?” Slash asked back. “The one you called in?”

“I didn’t…, Duff said he needed to talk to me, that’s all.” 

The door opened again and Duff and Axl strode in, carrying food. 

“Duff!” Izzy said. “You! And Axl! You’re ganging up on me? Behind my back? After all the things I’ve done for you? I can’t believe it.”

“We need to talk about this shit,” Duff replied, his face obtaining a stubborn streak. “Together. ‘Cause it does kind of affect all of us.”

Izzy collapsed into the heap of pillows in the corner while Duff and Axl handed out lunch. 

“I give up,” he said. “Go ahead.”

“Me?” Duff asked, his expression shifting from stubborn to panicky, and now Slash was really wondering what this was about. 

“Your meeting, you run it. I’m just here because my attendance was requested.” 

He picked up one of the sandwiches and started eating, pretending to not pay attention anymore. 

“OK.” Duff sat down behind the drum kit, looking to all the world as if he would love to hide behind the bass drum. “Izzy said that he might be willing to set me free.”

“Really?” Slash looked at his captain. “Finally! But I thought that was impossible.”

“It is,” Izzy replied. 

“So that’s why you offered? Because you can’t anyway? Izzy, that’s shit!”

“No!” Duff exclaimed. “No. It’s … Izzy offered to … to help me get to Goral.”

“All on his own!” Axl added. “He wants Duff to go all on his own. To Goral. From where he can’t come back. Not ever.”

Slash looked from one to the other, sure that he was missing something. And why were they all informed, while he didn’t even have a clue? 

“No,” he said, trying to find the missing puzzle piece. “Not on his own. That would be insane.”

“Yeah, not totally.” Izzy sat up a bit. “He can go with … them.” He pointed upwards. 

Slash still didn’t get it. He looked at Duff, but Duff was only shrugging helplessly. 

“It’s because …,” he finally started. “It’s only for me, that it makes sense to go, you know? I would be free. Axl wouldn’t. And Izzy’s got his business here. And you…,”

“I would be rid of the bounty,” Slash said. 

Not that he absolutely wanted to go to Goral. He didn’t know anything about it, after all. But if they were all going, he was fine with it. It would at least be something new. 

“Great,” Axl said. “So now you’re going, too?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Slash quickly replied. “Just said … I could. If you were all going.”

“We’re not all going.” Izzy picked another sandwich out of the bag. “Axl can’t go.”

“If you’re all going, I can go, too,” Axl protested. “You said they don’t mind artificials. Not even me.”

Izzy sighed. “No, they don’t mind. They don’t mind anything. But they don’t bother to make things easy for anybody either. I went through the databases yesterday to find out what is and isn’t working over there, and it’s hazy at best. Anyway: they produce very few things themselves. Most stuff is brought in over the border. At horrendous prices, I might mention, and your brand of supplements is specifically tailored to assemblees and not other artificials, which means: it’s hard to get even here. There are just not enough of your kind to make large productions worthwhile. Tarui produces, of course, but doesn’t sell. Others produce small batches, enough to get it, but, fuck, even here we’ve been almost running out once or twice.”

“So that’s your reason?” Axl was getting from upset to livid. “Because of the freaking shots?” 

“It’s one of the reasons,” Izzy admitted. 

“Yeah, fuck, I don’t care!” Axl yelled. “That should be my decision, shouldn’t it?”

“It’s a decision I’m not going to let you make,” Izzy replied calmly. “I will make it for you. And I’m saying ‘no’.”

“So Duff gets to make his own decisions?” Axl asked belligerently. 

“Yes,” Izzy replied.

“But I don’t!”

“No!” 

“Because he’s human and I’m not.”

Izzy frowned. “Don’t play the fucking artificial card, Axl. I’ve never treated you differently from a human, so don’t even pretend. Duff gets to make decisions because he’s less likely to kill himself with them. And that you’re behaving like a spoiled brat once again shows how right I was to make that difference.”

“Fuck you, that’s fucking unfair!” 

“Feel free to cry about the unfairness that is your life, Axl, you’re not going.”

Axl jumped up and started pacing. That he wasn’t fleeing the room yet or had started to throw food around, showed how much self-control he had learned over the years. 

“So I’m the fuck up again, huh? The road block in the system? If it weren’t for me, you’d all be going?”

Izzy shrugged. “To be honest, all the bureaucracy here is going on my nerves like woah, and I wouldn’t mind leaving that behind one and for all. I hadn’t thought that Slash would be this eager, but as he is …, yeah, I would consider going.” 

Slash was close to hitting Izzy himself for a change. Yes, he knew Izzy never lied to Axl, no matter how dire the truth, but did he have to be so blunt? 

“Awesome!” Axl yelled and now he did throw his sandwich. 

Nobody even blinked, which showed that the rest of them had learned just as much self-control over the years. 

Izzy, however, fixed him with a glare. “Throw any more stuff, and I’ll seriously consider a good old-fashioned spanking,” he said calmly. “Over my knee. Publicly. Behave like a child and I’ll treat you like one.”

“You’d never hit a child!” Axl yelled. 

“Yeah, luckily you aren't one, so try me and find out!”

As far as Slash knew, something like that had never happened, but Axl did look as if he believed it to be possible. Maybe the threat had hung in the air before. Axl was the type who would always take a whipping over a humiliation. 

“You’re not a fuck up,” Izzy added. “You have needs that are not easily met, and, like it or not, I’m responsible for meeting your needs. So as long, as I can’t find a way to do that, I won’t let you run into unknown territory.”

“What would it take…,” Slash started, “I mean … is there a way to find out? If they can produce? Or buy?”

Izzy’s look moved from Axl to Slash. “You really want to go?”

Slash looked helplessly from Duff to Axl. 

“I’m not against it,” he finally said. “If we’re all going, then, yeah, I’m OK. As I said, fucking bounty would be gone. That alone would be worth it for me. We both know that it’s only a question of time until I’ll get caught.”

Izzy nodded. He looked unhappy, to say the least. 

“Would you go with Duff? Problem is, I can’t sign him over to you or I would, but your papers won’t hold up when verified against a slave purchase.”

“Won’t change anything anyway,” Slash replied. “Slaves are not allowed to cross the border in general. For obvious reasons.”

“You’re not signing me over!” Duff exclaimed. 

“Duff…,”

“No! You said I was yours. I’ll stay yours.”

“We’re doing this so you won’t be anybody’s, Duff.”

“Yeah, fuck, then don’t. I thought I was going on my own, and that’s … that’s OK.” He looked like it was very much not OK, Slash thought, more like he was close to tears. “But now you’re all … all talking about ruining your lives over this and … I can’t have that. So, I won’t. Go, I mean. I won’t go.”

“Yes, you will go,” Izzy said, still so calm Slash didn’t get how he was managing. “We’re just bouncing ideas around about how to make it happen. No need to get upset.”

Slash took a sip out of the water bottle. He didn’t want to go with Duff, not when it meant leaving Axl behind. Not when he had just started wondering if there could ever be something between them. 

Why couldn’t things at least be the other way around, Izzy leaving with Duff and Axl staying with him? Not that he would be able to handle Axl on his own, not with any amount of kissing and maybe even sex one day or a full-blown relationship. As fucked up as it was, he needed Izzy for that. At least for now. Until he had learned how to defuse him in a case of emergency. 

“Back to before, Iz,” Slash said. “What would it take for you to even consider going.”

Izzy took a deep breath. “A two-year-supply of Axl’s supplements.” Apparently, he had already put quite a bit of thought into it. “If we can get that together, then I’d feel a bit more optimistic that we might be able to set something up once we’re over. There is a lot of trafficking going on and we should be able to find some outlaw willing to get us sorted. Or somebody who can analyse the substance and come up with a solution to have it produced locally. Which I would prefer, but, wishes and horses and such. Still, it’s a risk.”

“I’m willing to take it,” Axl said. 

“Give me one good reason,” Izzy said. “There isn’t much to gain for you, unlike for the rest of us.”

“What’s in it for you?” Axl asked back. “Except keeping Duff in your bed?”

Izzy smiled a little wistfully. 

“The unknown,” he said. “When I was still a kid, I always thought that one day I would have a look into deeper space behind the first solar system. Never happened, of course, since the way is barred for me, but it’s still one of those dreams I like to indulge in. Now and then. So, yeah, there is a certain … appeal to it. Breaking through the final frontier. Now you.”

Axl huffed. “It would at least be something different. All the same shit here’s getting old. And the bans on assemblees are increasing. I mean, there are now bans on planets where I was still allowed two years ago. How long until I can’t get off the ship at all? Or until they decide we all have to be disassembled? Or that we’re not worth it to produce more of the antidote at all? As you said, that stuff is not easy to come by. For now, production may pay for those few companies who still do it, but what if it doesn’t anymore.”

It was a valid concern, Slash had to admit. Every now and then discussions came up to at least outlaw the production of new assemblees. And from there on it was only a question of time until society demanded to get rid of those who were still in circulation. Latest then they would have to find a way to procure the antidote on their own. They could just as well start now. 

“Good enough,” Izzy replied. 

“Then, what would it cost to get a two-year supply for Axl and do we have enough money?” Slash asked. Fuck, it had to be possible somehow. 

“That’s not the only question,” Izzy said. “I can’t just go into the next pharmacy and buy that shit. The current maximum on what you are allowed to have … have, not buy … is six months. This means, each time I need more I have to transfer the complete accountability records and then I’m allowed to stock up to a level of six months again. Which I need to do on Chomo. Urgently, because I had no chance at Loomah. That leaves us only with the black market. Plus, as I said, assemblees are rare outside industrialized planets. Meaning even on the black market it’s not readily available. I don’t know the current going rate, but rest assured, guys, we’ll pay through the nose for it.”

“Can we afford it?” Slash asked. 

Izzy shrugged. “We’ve got the … uhm … travel fee Lis paid us. That’s quite a bit.”

“I got the drum kit for free,” Duff piped up. “Meaning that money is still there, too. And we can sell the drum kit again. And the bass.”

Slash mentally went through his savings, but there wasn’t much. He had never bothered to be careful with his spending, not having a real future to save anything for. 

“You can dock my pay, of course,” he said. “For the foreseeable future.”

“At least Chomo is a good chance to try,” Izzy said. “They are not that hung up on ethics and they have all types of artificials running around. Plus, they have huge industrial facilities and therefore, at least a few years ago, they produced themselves. I tried to find out if they still do, but didn’t find anything conclusive.”

“Can we check?” Duff asked. “When we’re there?”

“I know somebody there who might know somebody who might be able to have a chance at getting something. If they still produce. But I can’t promise. So, nobody please get their fucking hopes up, OK? It will likely come to nothing.”

“Are we gonna tell them?” Axl asked, pointing upwards. “I mean, they wanted to leave at Chomo.”

“Let them fucking leave, we go on our own!” Slash exclaimed. 

“We need Aino,” Izzy reminded him. “For now, we’ll leave things as they are. I’ll let Aino know when we are approaching Chomo. That I’m rethinking and that she should wait out our stay. But for the moment, I need to think this shit through some more. Also means, you can keep Mikah for counting the screws. Which reminds me, you did bother to let him have lunch, did you?”

Axl rolled his eyes. “Yes, I got him food. He’s been very diligent all morning.”

That was no surprise, Slash thought. Mikah would count himself through a screw factory, if he was told to do so. 

“Izzy?” he said, when everybody was preparing to return to work. “Can I have a word?” 

Izzy gave him a puzzled look, but stayed behind and closed the door after Duff and Axl had left. 

“What’s the problem?” he asked, when Slash didn’t start speaking. 

“I … might have done something stupid.”

If he had hoped for a quip or a joke, he was hoping in vain. Izzy just looked at him, face impenetrable as always. 

“I kissed Axl.”

The next thing Slash did was hold his bleeding nose. 

“Fuck, what was that for?” he yelled. 

“I said take care of him not take advantage of him,” Izzy snapped. 

“Yeah, fuck, only you are allowed to take advantage of everybody, huh?” 

Slash used the hem of his sleeve to dap at the blood.

“Don’t even start.” Izzy’s voice dropped half an octave. “Try fucking Axl when he’s all himself, and you have my blessing to go ahead and collect your teeth off the floor, but after treatment? That’s vile, man. Really.”

“I didn’t fuck him!” Slash spat back. “I kissed him. He kissed me back. He said he liked it. I’m not asking for your permission, I’m informing you. Because you’re his master and should probably know.”

“You’re … informing me?” 

Izzy came nearer and Slash stepped backwards until Izzy had him literally pinned against the wall. 

“Listen Slash, and listen carefully,” he said, his voice so menacing that Slash suddenly wondered if he really had done something stupid. And not because of Axl. “I don’t know what’s going on in that fucked up brain of yours, but if you hurt Axl in any way, shape or form, you’ll find your ass handed to you on the next planet we touch. And I won’t care whether it’s a habitable one or some rock in outer space. I’ll cast you out on some fucking meteorite.”

Izzy slammed a hand against the wall, right next to Slash’s face and it took him all he had to not flinch. 

“You don’t get to fool around with Axl, get your rocks off once or twice, because you’re hung up on your ex or feel hurt pride that she’s now fucking the woman who caught you by your fucking balls, or simply because you’re whiny that everybody but you gets to have sex. You start this, you’ll better be dead serious on the outcome. And don’t think this will be a walk in the park. We’re talking Axl here. He’ll make it as difficult for you as he can. Out of mere principle. If I get the slightest inkling that you’re leading him on or that this is anything but dedication for life, you’ll wish you’d never set foot on this ship. Are we clear?”

Slash raised his chin. “So, I have your blessing?” 

Izzy removed his hand and made a step back. 

“No,” he said, his voice completely normal again. “Because I think you’re an idiot to even try. But if Axl is OK with it, I won’t stop you. Ruin your life, for all I care.”

“So this was … what? Your version of the shovel talk?”

“Did it work?” Izzy asked with a grin. 

“Fuck, yeah, it did,” Slash had to admit. 

“Good. Because I meant what I’m saying. Axl has no real chance at ever finding a partner, which means: should you one day decide to break up with him, he can’t just move on and try new. And for me that means that I will get you off the ship, just to give him a chance to heal. Keep that in mind. That’s why I’ll be totally old fashioned here and tell you: make sure you are clear about your fucking intentions. And take it slow. Really slow. You were not there when he tried to… and I wish I hadn’t been either … but I fucking was, and I can tell you … anyway. Slower than slow would be a good idea. Glacier movement slow.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Slash did his best not to grin. That had gone over better than he had thought. 

“And when you’re getting married, I’ll get to walk Axl down the aisle,” he said. “Means I can’t be your best man. You’ll have to ask Duff for that. Which means … weirdest stag night ever.”

“Fuck you,” Slash replied. 

“You, too,” Izzy retorted. “And get some work done. This shit piece of a crap is falling apart with all the slacking that’s going on here.”


	34. Appropriate Behaviour

Duff was not sure what to make out of the new development. Izzy had told him to stop behaving like a slave, but what did that even entail? This was a space ship, Izzy was still his captain, and as such entitled to order him around any which way he wanted. 

A mental rundown of his typical working day, looking for things he might be able to change, came up empty. 

Yes, he made coffee for everybody in the morning, but he was the first up on any given day anyway, so what would he even gain by not making coffee? He would just have to wait for his own cup, and he was by no means prepared to do that. 

Maybe he could stop waking Izzy in the morning. That was a definite slave task. Only he loved waking Izzy. He was different when it was still early, soft eyed and sleep tousled and when he sipped his coffee in slow motion, there was an expression of pure bliss on his face. Even if he was the freest of the free, Duff wouldn’t surrender that task to anybody. And who should even take it over? Mikah? No way in hell.

Maybe it was petty of him that he refused to share, but Duff was determined that any tasks directly related to Izzy’s wellbeing and Izzy’s body were his and only his. The same pertained for those which were rewarded with tender looks and gentle smiles. 

Over the working day there weren’t any real slave tasks either. They worked. They all did. Maybe his work was less complex than what the others did, but he was getting forward. Slash had started to give him jobs he could by now complete on his own, and it felt awesome when he managed to repair some piece of engine without any help. 

Lately he was also dealing with administration, which was interesting, because he got a far better understanding about how the ship as a whole worked. Every day, when he got the reports from Axl about whatever it was that Mikah had finished, it felt as if he was putting another puzzle piece into the whole picture. 

He got a feeling for how many pieces of which spare type they needed in a certain timeframe, and just for fun he had started to make predictions about what would be used up until they reached Chomo. The biggest problem here was, to make Slash scan anything he took out of storage. He claimed he understood the necessity, but that didn’t do anything to improve his abysmal performance. 

It shouldn’t be so difficult, because every fucking storage room had a scanner right at the door. Duff was sure, Slash had to hide pieces of equipment under his shirt to avoid them getting scanned, but he still managed to forget half of the time. 

In the evening he cooked, of course, simply because … let’s face it … he was the one who did it best. Izzy always made sure his daily schedule offered him enough time. But the rest of kitchen duty, the cleaning up afterwards, went to Lis, Aino and Jari.

And anything else? Anything he did after work? 

Fuck, he loved taking care of Izzy, there was no denying it. It was almost a pity that after his quip about his hygiene standards, he had indeed made an effort to improve his personal grooming. It had been meant at as a joke, but he had taken it seriously. 

Mostly now, when Duff joined him in the evening, he had already washed up and changed into clean clothes and all that was left to do was to rub cream into his scars. And, really, that was a task he wouldn’t hand over to anybody either, not even if Izzy would beg him to. Izzy’s back was his, just like the rest of his body. 

So, no, Duff had no idea how to change his behaviour. If anything, his need to please was only growing. Izzy was going to set him free! More, he was ready to go through great risk, go bankrupt, and change his complete life, just to set him free. And in between they had the best sex anybody had anywhere in the whole galaxy. How was he supposed to not want to please him? 

The only possible change that occurred to him, was doing things in addition to all that: things he hadn’t dared doing so far. Things a bed slave was not allowed to initiate. A lover on the other hand? Yeah, that did make a difference. 

And so it had started.

Duff had always been fond of physical contact, even of the platonic kind. There was, for example, snuggling up to Izzy during movie time. Or to hug him, just because he felt like doing it.

Unless he had completely forgotten how relationships worked, those were things people did when they were in love. And he was in love. And he didn’t have to hide it anymore. And that felt awesome. 

Izzy had been surprised at first, but why he would be, Duff did not know. He had after all been the first to initiate public displays of affection. 

Thinking back, it had all started around the time their passengers had come onboard. Ever since then, he was receiving caresses, or kisses, or even a slap on his ass, whenever Izzy came into the kitchen. 

Now that he was thinking some more about it, almost all of that took place in the kitchen. Maybe Izzy had a kitchen-kink. Or watching people cook made him horny. 

Whatever the reason, he was extremely demonstrative about it all. As gentle as Izzy could be in the bedroom, as soon as somebody was watching, his behaviour turned possessive. Duff didn’t mind too much. After all, in the eye of the law he was Izzy’s possession, and freeing intentions or not, he could not expect him to make a total turnaround within just a few days. 

So why was Izzy so surprised, when Duff started to reciprocate? 

Because he was Izzy, probably, and needed to be grumpy now and then. Duff decided not to bother. If something was wrong, he would tell him so. He was nobody who tried to hide his misgivings. 

+++

Izzy was sitting in the kitchen, nursing a dearly needed cup of coffee and hiding from his crew. Maybe their life had been turned into a soap opera not so long ago, but now it was suddenly transformed into some kind of sitcom, and that was infinitely worse. 

There was, for example, Slash’s and Axl’s bizarre version of courtship. Slash clearly had no idea what to do about Axl. Either that or he was taking ‘glacier movement slow’ literally. Maybe his shovel talk had been a bit too successful. 

They spent a lot of time watching movies or listening to music while cuddling on the couch. As soon as somebody entered, Axl would sit up straight and blush and shift away from Slash, only to crawl back into his arms as soon as they were alone again. 

How Slash was able to deal with this middle school version of a relationship was a miracle to him, but he did. Maybe there was really more behind his sudden affections than blue balls. Hopefully, because if not, they would soon not only be blue, but crushed. 

And Duff, he had lately come to realize, could get too a little bit too much now and then. More now than then, lately. 

So here he was, in the kitchen, demanding nothing from life but one peaceful hour, when he was suddenly wrapped from behind into a pair of long arms. 

“Get off, Duff,” he groused, only to get a kiss onto his cheek for his endeavour.

Ever since he had made that huge mistake and declared Duff his lover, his life had turned into a never ending cuddlefest. Maybe he should have called it ‘friends with benefits.’ 

Outside his bed, Izzy wasn’t an overly tactile person. He wasn't averse to a bit of tenderness here and there, but he had never seen the appeal of random group hugs, and the sheer amount of cuddling Duff apparently required on a daily basis left him speechless. How had he survived before? By hugging himself? His arms were definitely long enough for that. It was probably all his own fault. It had been fun to molest him here and there, whenever Lis was watching. She was so easy to rile up. But everything in life had consequences and the consequences of his carelessness were currently wrapped around his neck.

Izzy tried his best to be accommodating Duff's needs and fucking deal with them, but there were moments when he just wanted to be alone and unmolested and … did he mention alone? 

Like now. But Duff was just not the person who got delicate hints. Or not so delicate ones. 

“Still coffee there?” Duff asked, far too cheerful for Izzy’s tastes. It didn’t sound like he wanted coffee, but rather company. 

“No,” he replied. “And you’ve got no time to make some. I’m sure your shift is starting. You should be running or you’ll be late.”

“I’ve got ten minutes,” Duff chirped. “Oh, there is still enough in the pot, awesome.”

And then he did not only help himself to the rest of the coffee, but also sat down next to Izzy, when all other places around the table were free. Their knees brushed, their elbows bumped against each other, and if he didn’t take care, Duff would manage to align their whole fucking bodies. How did he even manage? There were about five feet of height difference between them? 

Izzy knew how to shut up an annoying slave, even an annoying crewmember, and definitely an annoying passenger. But how was a man supposed to tell his lover that his current behaviour was grating on his nerves without being either insensitive, or dictatorial, or domineering, or any of the other things Slash told him regularly he was? 

He wanted to be nice to Duff, nice and egalitarian and, really, somehow things had been easier when he had still been able to play the master card. 

“I’ve got to run myself,” he said and gulped down his coffee. 

The bridge would be empty, or so he hoped. One never knew, lately people showed up, where they had no business being. And when had things started to change? And why was everybody suddenly behaving as if they were one big, loving family instead of some motley crew of losers?

Once upon a time being a spaceship captain had meant long, sometimes blessedly lonely, sometimes far too lonely, but definitely lonely hours. Now it meant one was overrun by needy people at any given time. 

Izzy was already halfway up, when he stopped on the middle of the stairs. Was he really hiding on his own ship? He sat down on the metal steps and thought about it. 

There was a way to channel Duff’s overboiling affections into the right direction, he knew. He only hadn’t done it, because … again … he had tried to let Duff determine a bigger part of their … uhm. … relationship. He still didn’t like that word. It sounded too … committed. As if they were about to get married next week. He really should have stuck to ‘friends with benefits’. That might have given Duff a better idea what this was all about. 

Maybe Duff needed a bit more … direction. Yes, that was the word. Slash liked to call it despotism, but in fact it was just gentle, urgently needed guidance to let him know … who was calling the fucking shots here!

Decision made, he went down to the sickbay and rummaged through the cupboards. It took him a while to find them. They hadn’t been needed in years, but he was sure that they had to be somewhere. In the end they were buried under a stack of dressing material: the paddings for Axl’s cuffs. 

Izzy picked them up and walked back into the kitchen. Duff was still there, drinking coffee. His ten minutes had been over … OK, would be over in thirty seconds. Pity, Izzy would have loved to berate him for being lazy. Which would be unfair because Duff was the hardest worker of them all, but who said he had to be fair all the time? 

“Forgot something?” Duff asked. 

Izzy tossed the paddings onto the table. “Make sure you put these on before you join me tonight.”

Duff picked them up, and fingered the material, trying to figure out what it was. Then it dawned on him. He looked up almost in shock, eyes wide and cheeks flaming red. Good.

“And if I were you,” Izzy added softly. “I’d put some honey in my tea today. ‘cause I’m pretty sure, your throat will need it before I’m done with you.”

He turned around and strode off, leaving Duff to his embarrassment and his almost empty mug of coffee. 

+++

It was early afternoon when Axl had finished his shift. Duff would be free, too, he knew, and so he went looking for him. He found him in the kitchen, staring into his tea as if it held the answers to all the questions of the universe. 

“Something wrong?” Axl asked and poured a mug for himself. 

“What is honey?” Duff asked. 

“Huh?”

“I mean, I know it’s an endearment. But Izzy said I should put some into my tea. How?”

“Honey is bee shit,” Axl said. 

That made Duff look up. “Bee shit? Really? Or are you fucking with me?”

“No.” Axl sat down at the table. “It’s really bee shit. And we don’t have any, ‘cause it’s expensive as fuck. And Izzy knows that. And why should he even suggest it? Do you have sore throat? ‘cause that’s why you put it into tea. If you’ve got a sore throat.”

To his surprise, Duff blushed. “I might have one later tonight,” he mumbled. 

“What?” Axl asked confused. Sometimes talking to Duff reminded him of these school workbooks Izzy had gotten for him, where he had to fill in missing words within a text. “Is there a virus spreading?” The last thing he needed was a cold. 

“No, Izzy said…,” Duff took a deep breath, “that I should put honey into my tea because I might … need it. But I didn’t know what honey was, so I thought, I’d ask. But if we don’t have any, then that’s not really helpful.”

Axl let his head drop onto the table in mute despair. For several reasons. One, Izzy was a bastard. Two, Duff’s lack of education was beyond funny sometimes. And, three, tonight they would be treated to another round of loud sex from Izzy’s cabin. 

Of those three, there was only one he could change, and it was about fucking time. 

“Come on,” he ordered and picked up his mug. 

“Where to?” Duff asked. 

“Your cabin.”

“Huh?”

“Come on, Duff, I’ll explain.” 

Duff stood up and followed. 

“Get your screen,” Axl ordered when they had both settled on the bed. 

Duff took it out of the nightstand drawer. To Axl’s eye, it looked far too unused. No fingerprints or dirt stains anywhere. Either Duff was the cleanliest person on the whole ship, or he was hardly ever using it. He wasn’t getting fucked every night, he should have time to read a bit now and then. Why the hell wasn’t he doing it? It might reduce the number of ignorant questions he was asking. 

“Switch it on.”

Duff did and handed it over. 

“OK,” Axl said, after he had searched through the library catalogue. “Here it is.”

He turned the screen around and showed it to Duff. 

“It’s what Izzy got me when I was new here and could barely read and write. You probably don’t have to start at the beginning, ‘cause you went to school, right? 

“Kind of,” Duff replied. “My caste is allowed four years. And that’s only to make sure we’ll be able to read the instructions for the dishwasher when we’re finally old enough to work. And it’s not really school, I mean, we’re allowed to sit in the back of the class and listen in with the caste one and caste two children. We’re not allowed to speak up or hand in homework or stuff like that. I once was suspended for a week because I asked a question.”

Axl hmphed. “In that case, I suppose you have to start at the beginning.”

“Why do I have to?” Duff scrolled listlessly down the screen and looked at the chapters. “I mean … I know I’m stupid, ‘n all…”

“You’re not stupid!” Axl interrupted him. “You just never got a chance. But, surprise, here it is. Use it.”

Duff chewed his lip. “I know I should. But …,” 

“No buts, Duff. Really.” How did he explain that he was indeed kind of stupid now and then without hurting his feelings? “You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because your stupidity is absurd, sometimes, that’s why. You have to change that.”

Great. Now Duff was blushing. And looked as if he had been kicked. 

“Look,” Axl tried to explain. “Honey? Everybody knows what honey is. Why don’t you know that?” 

OK, he hadn’t known either. When he had read about it, he had asked Izzy if people really ate bee shit. And from their next stop Izzy had returned with a tiny, tiny glass filled with a spoon full of sticky, yellow stuff that had tasted incredibly sweet. And had given it all to Axl. Who had taken it to his cabin and had licked a miniscule drop off his fingertip now and then, to make it last as long as possible. 

Sadly, it was gone, or he would have given a drop to Duff. But he still had the glass and maybe he could show it to him. There was a little bee edged into it, near the bottom, and a honeycomb was drawn onto the lid. 

“I was never good at learning stuff,” Duff said. “I mean, I already had a really hard time getting all the letters right on my own. I don’t think I’ll manage.”

“Because nobody showed you,” Axl tried to make him see reason. “And because you were not allowed to ask questions. When I did this program, I had to ask Izzy tons of shit, ‘cause there was so much I didn’t get. It was for human children, so they just assumed that you knew lots of stuff I had never heard of before.”

Duff shrugged. “I can’t bother Izzy with this. I mean, he’s already doing all this … this … stuff for me. Like going to Goral and setting me free. And I don’t want him to think that I’m … I mean … there’s really a lot I don’t know, I suppose. It might be better if he doesn’t know … how much.”

“I still know most of what this program is about,” Axl said. “If you have questions, you can ask me.”

Now Duff did look up. Hopeful, maybe even a little eager. 

“That might help,” he said, still sounding careful. “But I don’t know how much time I have for this.”

“How about tonight?” Axl asked. “I’ll show you how to get started. Then you can try on your own and if you need help, you tell me.”

Duff blushed again. “Izzy wants me tonight,” he said. 

Axl cocked his head. “I thought you had reached a point where you got a say in that.”

“I do!” Duff exclaimed. “Just … “

“He’s planning to do some crazed up shit tonight, right?”

Duff nodded. 

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” 

Fuck, he shouldn’t even be asking, but why the fuck was Duff looking so apprehensive? Shouldn’t he be doing a happy dance?

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Then why are you fucking looking like that?” Axl threw up his hands. 

“I … might be a bit scared.”

“Scared?” 

Axl tried to understand this, he really did, but all this shit was so outside his realm of understanding, that it was just impossible. Why the hell was Duff still scared of sex with Izzy?

“Yeah, like … “ Duff’s face obtained a desperate expression. 

“Come on!” Axl said. “You know I have no idea about sex. Explain it to me.”

“OK.” Duff took a deep breath. Then he drank about fifty sips of cold tea. Then he took another deep breath, and then he started. “Sometimes Izzy makes me do things that scare me. At the beginning, you know. But he has this way where he … he kind of takes me through it, you know? Step by step. Until they don’t scare me anymore. Or not as much as they did before, at least. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do,” Axl said.

In fact, he knew exactly what Duff meant. Getting him to do things he had never done before and were therefore scary was Izzy’s specialty. Like that one day, when they had been in a forest. First it had been awesome, all those huge trees, the wind in the leaves, this incredibly soft ground beneath his feet. Amazing. But suddenly there had been trees everywhere, and he hadn’t been able to say anymore from which direction they had been coming.

He had wanted out, right away, but Izzy had said that they would go back as soon as he managed to get his breathing frequency down to fifteen per minute. Which he had managed. And then he had been calm enough to go on and look at more trees. 

“Yeah, then you know what I mean, I guess. How it feels when the fear suddenly eases off.”

“Relieving?” Axl asked. 

“Orgasmic,” Duff replied. 

“No,” Axl said. “I don’t think … no, I’m only relieved.”

“Yeah, for me it’s … like … I’m totally getting high on it. On getting fucked through my fears.”

“Oh,” Axl said. No, he really didn’t understand that. “And that’s what you’ll do tonight?”

“I suppose so,” Duff said. “I don’t know exactly. But, yeah, probably.”

“Why don’t you ask?”

“’cause it’s part of the game.” Duff smiled a little, before he blushed even more. “The not knowing. Scares me even more.”

“You’re fucked up, dude,” Axl said. “How about tomorrow then? When you’ve screamed yourself hoarse and are wishing you had honey for your tea?”

“Yeah!” Duff said, suddenly grinning all over his face. “Yeah, would be cool. But don’t expect too much,” he cautioned immediately “‘cause I’m really not good at learning.”

“You’ll manage.” 

And if not, Axl swore silently, he would make sure he did. This couldn’t go on. Not when Mikah was around them and overheard all the ridiculous things Duff didn’t know. 

Mikah, Axl had noticed, was very educated. No wonder. If requested he was supposed to hold a conversation with his master. For that he had to be well versed in a quite a lot of topics. He had read pretty much all the books Axl had read. Even the one about whaling, which he had mentioned to show off a little. Axl had the suspicion, that Mikah had understood it better, too. 

And, worse, once he had heard Izzy talk to Mikah about some book he hadn’t read at all, where some guy was travelling around for an eternity when in fact he only wanted to go home after fighting in some war, and when he arrived home, nobody recognized him and he pretended to be a beggar, and how maybe exactly this would happen to Izzy, when he returned home. And Mikah had understood the reference and made the fitting comment. And Izzy had laughed. 

This was bad for two reasons: one, Mikah now had a unique topic of conversation with Izzy none of them could follow, and second, Mikah wasn’t supposed to know that they were going to Goral and therefore had to meet Izzy’s family. Izzy had slipped. It meant that he started to trust Mikah and trust, Axl knew from experience, was dangerous. 

He didn’t aspire to bring Duff up to Mikah’s level of education. It was hopeless anyway. Fuck he was far away from that level himself, no matter how many books he read. But sometimes Izzy looked absolutely consternated, when Duff made one of his especially ignorant comments.

If he now started to think Mikah was … maybe interesting in some way, that he understood things Duff didn’t, then that was not good. Mikah was after all trained to be entertaining and diverting and to help his master pass the time. 

Duff, on the other hand, was an awesome guy, the best friend one could wish for, and apparently exceptionally skilled in bed, but what if that should one day stop to be enough for Izzy? It was always better to be prepared and if Duff didn’t act, then Axl had to take care of the issue. Urgently. And they would start now. Before that little bastard got a chance to suck up to Izzy even further.


	35. The Next Twenty Years

Izzy was almost ready to backtrack on his … suggestion … promise … threat… whatever, when Duff knocked at the door. 

“Open,” Izzy called, and there he stood: freshly showered, paddings under his shackles and dread all over his face. “Come in.”

He gave Duff the once over, taking his time, or maybe buying time before the next step. Duff stood under his scrutinize, almost as nervous as on that fateful first day in the shop. 

Izzy pointed over to the bed, where there lay a bundle of scarfs. 

“Pick one,” he said. “Your choice.”

Duff walked over, looking as nervously as if he expected a snake to slither out any moment. 

“Take your time. I still have to finish something.”

He returned to the computer and aimlessly went through the storage lists. When he thought that Duff had had enough of a chance to either calm his nerves or get into a veritable fret, he shut the system down and stood up. 

Duff, too, rose from the bed and held up one of the scarfs. 

“Purple?” Izzy asked. “Interesting choice.”

“It’s the one you wore when you bought me,” Duff replied. 

Izzy tried to remember, but couldn’t. 

“Really?”

Duff nodded. “I’ll never forget. Because it was the best day of my life.”

Izzy felt his resolution melt, but refused to let it show. They were here for a purpose, after all, and that purpose was not to gush over Duff’s specific brand of sweetness, but to get him a bit more focussed. 

“All right, then.” 

He stepped up to Duff and turned him around, to face away from him. He wiped Duff’s hair away and pressed his lips to his neck, gently sucking the fading hickey back into place. 

“First of all, rules are just as always. You can say ‘no’. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Duff replied. 

“Good. You can say no anytime you want and I will stop right away. However, it would make me very happy if you tried not to.”

“I’ll do my best,” Duff whispered. 

“I know you will.” 

Izzy pushed Duff’s head down and ran his thump over the vertebrae in his neck. Then he let his hands travel down his arms, to the hem of his shirt. He slipped them under the fabric and moved them upward, before he unceremoniously pulled the shirt over Duff’s head and let it fall on the ground. Duff stood, arms still above his head, in the same position Izzy had left him. 

Izzy took his wrists and clicked the cuffs together at the small of his back. Duff shuddered, but still kept his head down. Izzy let his hands travel up his arms again, until he reached his shoulders once more. He kissed Duff’s nape, then licked a stripe up to his hairline and laid his palm flat onto his neck, pushing his head down a little further. 

“So here’s what’s gonna happen today,” he said softly. “I’d like to think that so far I have treated you with a certain … consideration. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Duff replied. 

Izzy hummed under his breath, while he added additional kisses down Duff’s spine, moving downwards until he had to kneel to keep going. When he reached the bound hands, he stood up again. He wrapped his arms around Duff’s waist, and reached for the belt. Slowly he pulled it out and pushed a hand into his underwear. Fitting pants, he reminded himself, when they almost slipped off Duff’s hips. One day he would have to buy him some. 

Duff’s dick was already standing to attention, and Izzy wasn’t sure if he should be amused or flattered. Both, probably. He was proud however, that nothing of his amusement showed in his voice. It would have totally killed the mood. 

“Today,” he said. “this will change. Today, I will use you like you were intended to be used. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes.” 

Goosebumps were now rising on Duff’s skin and his breathing was becoming more deliberate. His cock grew harder with each word Izzy was saying. 

“Good. You will come Duff. And you will come hard. But until then, it will be … let’s say … a bit of an ordeal for you. Are you up to that?”

“Yes.” Duff’s breath became almost laboured, but he still didn’t move. 

“Good.” Izzy pushed his hand in deeper. “Do you remember what I told you about pain?”

“That it’s not gonna happen. But I don’t mind if …”

“I mind,” Izzy interrupted him. “This is not up to you. I don’t get off on pain. So there won’t be any. Can I trust you to tell me if I should hurt you?”

Duff hesitated. Izzy pulled out his hand. 

“Duff?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I will tell you if you should happen to hurt me. Promise.”

“Good.” Izzy hooked his finger into the waist of Duff’s pants and pulled them down in one quick movement. Fuck, he didn’t even have to open the fly. “Step out.”

Duff did, losing his shoes in the process. He had skipped socks right away, which was practical, because it meant, they were done. 

Izzy, still fully clothed, put his hands onto Duff’s naked waist. Duff shivered under his touch. He was scared, scared and aroused, and, fuck, was it a heady feeling that he managed to induce both at the same time, just by using his voice and a bit of touching. 

“Chin up.”

He picked up the scarf Duff had chosen, folded it together and tied it over Duff’s eyes. This resulted in a full-blown tremble, which took almost a minute to die down. 

Izzy turned him around. Duff was rockhard, but it would be some time until he would come. 

“You don’t have to be scared.”

Izzy looked him over. Sometimes he forgot how young Duff was. He appeared so much older most of the time, so responsible, so worldly-wise, so fucking experienced. No wonder he behaved like a kid in love. He was one. And for once he should have the right to be one. What if it meant he had to indulge his need for cuddling and kissing and fucking hand holding? 

Duff had been burdened with far too much responsibility at a far too young age, and Izzy had the suspicion that it was part of the reason why he had adapted so easily to a life of slavery, Because for maybe the first time in years he was not responsible for anybody, no giant family to feed, no rent to pay, no jobs to keep. It wouldn’t keep him content in the long run, but for a while, just having to follow orders while leaving it to somebody else to take care of everything, might have felt like a reprieve. 

Yeah, orders. Which was what they were here for, after all. 

“All you have to do is follow my lead. I know how obedient you can be, Duff and that’s all I’m asking for tonight. Obedience. You can’t go wrong, you can’t make mistakes and if you misunderstand, I will correct you and we start new. So, really, no need to worry about anything.”

“Ok,” Duff said.

“Good, come over here.” 

Izzy led him to the bed and sat down on the corner. Then he dropped a pillow onto the floor and guided Duff down to his knees. It was a bit awkward with his bound hands and missing sense of vision, but that was the point of all this. Make it as awkward for Duff as was possible. 

“You know where you are?”

“Between your knees,” Duff replied. 

“All right. Then do your job.”

Duff moved forward, encountered a mouthful of cloth for his effort, and struggled to find a solution for the obvious problem of not having access to his hands and eyes. Izzy let him struggle. Duff had always been practically inclined and quickly came to a resolve. Using his tongue, he managed to get a feeling for the lay of the land, including the significant bulge in Izzy’s pants, and then he used his teeth to open his fly. 

Although Izzy had made sure he wore a well-worn pair of pants that would open easily, it took Duff some time. The trembling subsided, and he didn’t seem scared anymore, just fully engrossed in his task. 

“Good,” Izzy praised, when he had finally managed. “Now, here’s what’s coming next: I don’t want activism. I don’t want you to try and gain control, like you normally do.”

He closed his hands around Duff’s head and tilted it upwards, as if he could see him.

“You only have to do as you’re told, OK?”

“Yes,” Duff said, his voice a little hoarse already. Well, it would get a lot hoarser before they were done here. 

Izzy let go of him for a moment to get rid of his own clothes. Then he sat down exactly where he had been sitting before, brought himself up with a few quick strokes, and took a firm hold of Duff’s head. 

“Alright, sugar, here we go. Open your pretty mouth and keep still for me.”

Duff obeyed, a little hesitantly, but enough for Izzy to feed him his cock. Duff closed his lips around it and tried to suck, but Izzy just pulled back out. 

“What did I tell you?”

Duff breathed heavily, and Izzy wondered if he was still thinking clearly, or slipping into panic. Maybe he should have tried out the blindfold without adding restraints to the equation. 

“To hold still?” he finally asked. 

“Yes. No sucking. No licking. I’ll fuck your mouth, sweetheart, and that’s it. Understood?”

“OK.” Duff shifted on his knees, trying to find a better position, but having difficulties without his hands. 

“Open up.” Izzy ordered, and then they tried again. 

This time Duff managed to keep his tongue in check. Izzy pushed in a little, then pulled out again and stilled. He ran his hands over Duff’s hair, closed them around his head and pulled him in slow motion down onto his cock. 

At first, Duff followed, but all of a sudden, he started to gag and sputter and struggle. Izzy paused for a moment, to see if he was catching himself, but no such luck. He removed his hand, pulled out and Duff quickly sat back onto his haunches. He was coughing and choking, until Izzy took him by his shoulders and urged him to settle against his leg for a moment. 

“OK?” he asked, stroking Duff’s hair. 

“Yeah,” Duff sputtered. “Yeah, sorry, I …”

“Hush,” Izzy made and Duff fell silent. “My fault if you can’t take it. Never yours, OK?” 

“Ok,” Duff rasped. He was still wheezing heavily, but was slowly coming down, until he slumped against his knee. 

“You know what the problem is, right? Not what you’re doing. What you’re thinking. You know how to deepthroat. You’re doing it all the time. Fuck, sometimes you suck me down so fast, I wonder how you even manage. It’s just your need for control. You have no control, and suddenly you can’t do it. So, question is, do you want to stop? It’s OK, if you do.”

Duff moved his head against his thigh. No. 

“You want to try again?”

Another movement. Yes, this time. 

“OK. Now listen to me. Open your mouth, relax your throat. Fuck, what am I telling you, you are a lot better at this than I am. I will slide in slowly. I’ll give you lots of time to adapt. And when I’m all in, you’ll get one moment of control. One. You just hold still and breathe for as long as you want, and when you’re ready, you close your lips. And then I will fuck your throat, until you’re seeing stars. OK?”

Duff straightened and opened his mouth and Izzy couldn’t help but marvel at his determination. 

He pushed the tip of his cock past Duff lips and waited for a moment. Then, again, he pulled him down, this time even slower than before. Duff was breathing heavily through his nose, but he followed. Izzy stabilized him by his shoulder with one hand, only keeping the other one loosely at the back of his head, to forestall any backward movements. Whatever length Duff had taken, he wouldn’t get rid of again. 

Finally, finally, after half an eternity, he was all in. Duff’s face was buried against him, while Izzy petted his hair and whispered soothing nonsense. It took another eternity, but then Duff closed his lips. It was already more control than Izzy had planned to give him, but apparently, he still needed it. Maybe one day… 

“Good,” he whispered and moved his hand down to Duff’s nape. “Just hold still now.”

In order to give himself a better angle, he pushed Duff’s head a little bit back, made sure he held him so loosely, that he could pull back anytime he wanted to, and started to fuck his face.

He wasn’t going overly hard, but Duff struggled to keep still. He managed well enough and Izzy did his best to not overdo it. Holding back, however, was not as easy as he had thought. 

Yes, of course he had known this would be hot, but he hadn’t taken in account what such a power trip would do to his ego. Duff wasn’t one to just submit, fuck he had proven time and again that he could hold himself in a confrontation. 

Yet here he was, not only expressing this insane will to please him, but getting fucking hard from it. The power he held in his hands at this one moment was intoxicating, something he could get drunk of. It made him all the things Slash always accused him of, until Izzy wanted to tattoo his claim onto Duff’s forehead for everybody to see. 

Holding his breath, he moved in one final time and came. Duff struggled lightly against his hand while he swallowed, but not enough to be considered real resistance. Then he stilled, face buried once more between Izzy’s legs, shrinking dick still in his mouth. 

When he pulled out, Duff slumped into himself. Izzy caught him under his arms and tried to help him onto the bed. Duff, still blind and handicapped, struggled to follow, but they managed somehow, When Izzy reached for his dick to make him come, too, he found to his astonishment, that he was too late. Duff had come, untouched, unfucked.

Izzy couldn’t help it. He almost came a second time. 

He unclicked Duff’s shackles and removed the blindfold.

“All good?” he asked.

Duff blinked owlishly into the dim light from the bedside table. 

“Hey, sugar,” Izzy nudged him lightly. “You still alive?”

“Not sure,” Duff rasped, his voice barely audible. 

Izzy got him some water and helped him sit up to drink. 

Duff swallowed in long gulps before he handed the bottle over. 

Taking a few sips himself, Izzy watched him quizzically. 

“You sure you’re OK? You look … kind of beside yourself.”

“You’re a beast, do you know that?” Duff said, his voice only marginally better. 

“Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“Dunno. Take your pick.”

Izzy laughed. “I’ll make up for it next time. Will do you all sweet and gentle and lovingly.”

“The hell you’ll do,” Duff muttered. “I can do myself sweet and gentle all on my own. I need you for this!”

Izzy shook his head. “Come on. Shower.”

“We don’t have enough water for that,” Duff warned. 

“We do. Quick one, no lingering. But you deserve it and you’ll get one.”

Afterwards they lay in bed, Duff calm and quiet in his arms and apparently pondering some kind of important thought. 

“Do people really eat bee shit?” he suddenly asked. 

“What?” Izzy exclaimed? Then he remembered where he had heard that question before. “Axl?”

Duff nodded. 

“It’s not bee shit,” he said. “It’s …” He had no idea what it really was. “OK, it’s probably closer to bee vomit. But, yeah, people eat it. It tastes sweet. You didn’t know what honey was?” he then asked, realizing the heart of the problem. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“I did,” Duff replied. “I asked Axl.”

That was OK, Izzy supposed, only Duff shouldn’t worry about asking questions. It wasn’t his fault that he had been kept deliberately uneducated. 

“Axl showed me some program,” Duff went on. “It was in the library. It’s like school, only you can do it remotely. Axl said he did it himself.”

“Oh, that.” 

Yeah, Izzy remembered. He had thought about assigning it to Duff, too, but Duff wouldn’t have managed on his own, not because he lacked intelligence, but simply because he had no idea how to approach formalized learning. Axl, although he had been absolutely dogged when it came to making up for lost educational opportunities, hadn’t either. 

With Axl, that hadn’t been a problem. They had sat down together for an hour here or there, and Izzy had answered his questions. 

It had soon been obvious, that he was slipping into some kind of parent role for Axl, and after a bit of pondering whether that was a good idea or not, he had grudgingly accepted. Axl had never had a parent and maybe it was what he needed to catch up on his developmental backlog. 

Duff, on the other hand, was his freaking lover. Acting like his teacher or, worse, his Dad, would have been … uncomfortable at best. So he had avoided it and decided, that he would just answer questions Duff brought up on his own. 

“Axl said he would help me,” Duff added carefully, as if he was admitting to some misdeed. 

“He did?” Izzy asked surprised. If there was one thing Axl was really bad at, it was sharing. Even sharing something as abstract as knowledge would not be easy for him. 

“If it’s OK,” Duff said. 

“Yeah,” Izzy replied. “Yeah, absolutely. Would you like me to free up some of your time for that?”

It would be good for both of them, so, yes, of course he was more than OK with it. Maybe Axl's knowledge was a little bit off the mark now and then, but for somebody who had literally grown up under a rock and was ninety-nine percent selftaught, his progress was amazing. If he wanted to try and get Duff up on the same train, he had his blessing.

“Would you?” Duff sat up. 

“I guess an hour would be OK. For Axl, too, if he really wants to teach you. But not more, sorry. The rest has to come out of your free time.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Duff beamed down at him. “That’s awesome, thank you!”

“As you said, Axl did it, too. Same rights for all, I guess. For as long as I can spare you. Might happen any time that I have to rescind it, in case the workload suddenly increases.”

Duff still smiled, but he settled down again, and for a while, they were both quiet.

“Do you sometimes think that it was easier before?” Duff, apparently in a contemplative mood, asked. “When you were just my master?”

“Yeah,” Izzy replied. “Sure, it was easier. Do you want it easy?”

Duff thought about it before he answered. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t think so. I guess it’s just … I never know what I am. Sometimes I’m your slave and sometimes I’m not. I never know how to behave.”

“I have to admit, I struggle with it, too,” Izzy admitted. “On the one hand I’d like to tell you that you’re free, but on the other hand I know that you’re not. And, yeah, I get confused, sometimes.”

“You do?” Duff pushed himself up on one elbow. 

“Sure. I’m used to telling you what to do and have you do it.”

“I still do what you tell me to do,” Duff said offended. “’cause you’re the captain!”

“I know.” Izzy stifled a smile. How did the kid even manage to be this cute? “Only I shouldn’t order you around at a whim anymore. Not the way I did before. I have to think twice, whether it’s something that is important for the ship or whether it’s just because I would like you to do it. Like tonight. That was definitely not for the benefit of the ship.”

“But it was hot,” Duff protested. “Although, maybe it shouldn’t be? Now that I’m not your slave anymore?” It came out like a question. 

“If you like it, then it’s Ok,” Izzy soothed him. “But there are areas, where the lines are blurring. And it’s not easy for me to always make sure I’m staying on the right side. Because for the longest time, I didn’t have to. So … what I wanted to say is … I guess … forgive me when I overstep, OK? And chew me out for it.”

“Never!” Duff exclaimed, his voice coming all squeaky out of his abused throat. “Chew you out, I mean.”

“Pity.” Izzy kissed him into his still wet hair. “’cause I guess, we have to figure it out together, somehow, and I’d like you to help me.”

“We will do.” Duff settled against his side. “Sometime over the next twenty years or so.”


	36. Autonomy

Izzy told Aino that he might reconsider his decision regarding Goral the evening before they reached Chomo. At first, she looked happy, but then her face turned thunderous. 

“When did you come up with that?” she asked darkly. 

“What does it matter?” Izzy asked back. 

“You had Mikah working for your team the whole trip!”

Izzy shrugged. “He did a good job. And as this is my ship: everybody is my team. Including you, by the way.”

“You’re such an asshole, Jeff,” she said. “Really.”

“Yeah, people keep telling me,” he replied. “Must be something true about it. So, do you want to go or not?”

She gave him a thoroughly displeased look. And then she hugged him. 

+++

Chomo was a welcome diversion, not only from the daily routine, but also from all the emotional upheaval that had taken over half of the ship. It was a nice planet, the atmosphere not natural, but definitely of higher quality. And it was wonderfully unregulated. If there was one planet Izzy really liked, it was Chomo. 

Unfortunately, if he had anything to say about it, he would never ever allow any of his slaves off board at Chomo. But as they were lately all about making their own decisions, it was not up to him. 

The evening before arrival, he did the usual and called his crew together for the shore leave pep talk. 

He had returned Mikah to his rightful owners – a little wistfully, he had to admit, because the kid had done a good job and counted himself through the entirety of their storage rooms, all without ever complaining, throwing shit or demanding unreasonable amounts of physical affection. There was something about owning a well-behaved slave, Izzy realized. Sadly, for him, this episode of life was over. 

When he entered storage room 3, Slash, Duff and Axl were already there. Over the last month storage room 3 had turned as comfortable as a storage room could get. Piece by piece they had dragged not only the furniture down from the sitting room, but also the movie screen, the stereo system, and even the fridge. Izzy was sure, had it been possible, Axl would have carried the window downstairs. 

It had resulted in some complaints from their passengers, who were now sitting on cushions on the floor, but Izzy had shrugged it off. This wasn’t a cruise ship. The trip towards the border would take ages and they needed a place to unwind after work. A place as far away from everybody else as possible. 

“OK,” Izzy said. 

He dropped onto the couch next to Duff and, in an attempt to be considerate towards his lover’s specific needs, put an arm around his shoulder. Duff, of course, immediately melted into it. 

“Chomo. Class B planet. We’ll be in a desert area, so you guys should be fine.”

“No snow?” Duff asked. He looked a little disappointed. 

“Thank fuck, no,” Slash muttered. 

“Yeah, no snow. Slash’s bounty is valid, but nobody will give a fuck about it. Unless you get yourself caught by a headhunter. Again. Should that happen, don’t bother to inform me. I will do shit about it.”

Slash showed him the finger, but abstained from any smart remarks this time. Hopefully he had learned something out of their current predicament. 

“Slave regulations. No radius tracker required. However, as we are not residents, I have to register you at customs with assigned handlers, which would be me and Slash. You have to be with one of us at all times. I can let you run around on your own for an hour per day, if you absolutely want to, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Really not. Without a guardian you’d be fair game. And I mean fair game. Expect a lot of groping, pawing over, etc, even around us. And don’t be offended if somebody offers me money to bend you over the next table. In fact, you might see quite a bit of stuff like that everywhere. Nobody on the entire planet gives a fuck about your precious feelings.”

“Awesome,” Axl said. “Why that longwinded talk? You’ve never let me offboard on Chomo and I bet you won’t this time either. Or is it because Duff is allowed and I’m not? Because he can make his own decisions, but I can’t?”

Izzy would have loved to just agree with him. But if he started to constantly allow things to Duff while withholding them from Axl, it would be a recipe for disaster. Which meant: if Duff got to make his own decisions, Axl would have to be allowed, too. With all the disastrous consequences this would bring. 

“It’s because if you fuck up, Axl” he said, “I swear, it will be the last time I’ll let you decide anything. You’re a piece of meat on Chomo, nothing more. If you can’t handle that, stay on board. If you think you can, feel free to go down with the rest of us. Your decision.”

“Really?” Axl sat up straight. “My decision?”

“Don’t make me change my mind. You guys are all screaming for autonomy. Now you’ll get it. Prove that you can handle it or deal with the consequences. I won’t get you out of your scrapes.”

“I can handle it,” Duff said earnestly from where he was cuddled up against Izzy’s side. 

“I know, babe.”

Izzy kissed the hickey on the side of his neck. Somehow, whenever that thing had healed, he felt the deep need to place a new one in exactly the same place. Maybe they could tattoo it in. 

Axl made gagging noises. Sometimes he behaved like a twelve-year-old. Therefore, the ‘hands above the waist’ relationship he had with Slash, was probably the perfectly age appropriate way to go. Maybe he should insist on a curfew. Have Slash pick him up and return him before bedtime. Only they both slept in the same bed, so it was somehow pointless. 

Duff could be like a twelve-year-old, too and so reacted to Axl’s disgust by initiating a real round of smooching. Izzy tried to fend him off without being too obvious about it. 

“There’s quite a bit we have to do,” he continued. “Discharge of our cargo comes first. Then stock up on supplies. Duff, are the lists ready?”

“Yeah, I sent it all to you yesterday. And I’ve cut it down to the basics, so we’ll have more money for Axl’s shots. Only the food,” he added hastily. “I didn’t make any concessions with the spares.

Izzy gave him an unhappy look. “Don’t tell me we’ll be living off processed shit for the rest of the journey.”

Duff shook his head. “I just exchanged the more expensive stuff for something cheaper. You can check if you want to.”

“No,” Izzy replied, although he was itching to doublecheck everything. “No, it’s OK. I said you’re in charge of the food, so, yeah. Just be really sure, ‘cause there’ll be a long stretch where we can’t touch planet anywhere. If we’re out of food, we’re out of food.”

“I’m sure,” Duff said and Izzy left it at that. 

Another aspect of their new normal he had to get used to, assigning tasks to his men and leaving them there. It was a lot harder than he had thought. Giving up control, Izzy had realized, did not come easy to him. 

“OK, then, when all that is done … wanna go and watch a dirt race?”

“Yes!” Duff exclaimed 

Slash perked up. Dirt races were, if anything, loud and chaotic, the audience just as wild as the races themselves. It was the perfect place to get drunk, drugged and have a good time in general. 

Axl, however, looked rather bored. He didn’t care about dirt races.

“Aw, Axl,” Izzy said. “You should show a bit more enthusiasm.

“What for?” Axl asked back. “A bunch of idiots racing heaps of scrap metal against each other, and burning themselves to a crisp in the process?”

“Because my contact person on Chomo is quite the enthusiast. I only have to find out when and where he’s racing his car, and then we can go and find him.”

“Oh!” Axl’s eyes were suddenly alight with excitement. “So we’re really doing it? Trying to find my shots?” 

“Did you have any doubts?” Izzy asked back, pretending to be offended. 

“A few,” Axl said. “I thought you said it to shut us all up and in the end it would be something like, ‘pity, didn’t turn out’.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Izzy asked. 

“No,” Axl admitted. And then he smiled. 

+++

The next morning, Duff was hyper as hyper could be. Not even customs procedures were enough to leave a dent in his excitement. This time he and Axl stood face to the wall, hands linked on their backs. 

The officer came on board and Duff almost felt Axl stiffen next to him. Customs at Chomo meant being treated like a pony in a petting zoo, he had explained to him. To Duff this sounded rather bearable, but Axl had shuddered as if a troop of ants was marching down his spine. 

“Chin up,” he whispered, and smiled when he caught Axl’s look. “Will be over in a minute.”

“Beautiful day, captain,” the man said. “Papers all ready? Good.”

Duff heard beeping behind himself. 

“Discharge is permitted. Through corridor seven, please. How long are you planning to stay?”

“A week,” Izzy said, his voice carefully neutral. 

“Oh, then you’ll be here for the big autumn race. Don’t miss out on it. Everybody who owns a racer will be there.”

“Good to know,” Izzy replied. “I’ll make sure to check it out.”

“You do that.” The voice was coming from the other end of the room was, where Slash was leaning against the wall. Aino and Jari, their official passengers, stood close together. 

Another couple of beeps, and then Duff felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Now you, sweetie.” The hand brushed over his back, and then his locked hands were pulled back an inch to give access to his bracelet. “There wasn’t that bad, huh?”

Duff took a deep breath, when the hand grabbed his ass and squeezed in what was probably supposed to be friendly. 

“Nice boys you’ve got, captain,” the officer said. 

Out of the wink of his eye, Duff saw him move over to Axl. 

“Pretty, really. Both of them.” 

He brushed Axl’s hair away to have a look at his face. 

“Wow, they’ve made you beautiful, huh? I’ve seen a few assemblees in my life, but never one like this.” 

He reached for Axl’s chin and turned his head into his direction. 

“If they were all like you, I’d get one myself. Where did you buy him?” 

“Some kind of factory,” Izzy said and Duff almost heard his teeth gnash. 

“Really pretty.”

The officer let go of Axl’s chin and started to pat down his body with lots of attention to detail. In the end, it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, but to Duff it felt like ages until he finally heard the beep from Axl’s bracelet. 

Axl, in the meanwhile, had grown more and more tense, until Duff was convinced that they were only one spark away from a supernova. If this was a taste of what they had to expect on Chomo, he understood why Izzy had preferred to keep Axl on board. 

But while the whole process might have cost Axl part of his tongue, he managed to suffer through it all with no more bruises than those to his dignity. Afterwards Izzy released them, and when Duff turned around, he noticed that Slash looked furious. That came as a surprise. He should have seen procedures like this countless times during his travels.

“Do I have to extend my words of warning to you to, Slash?” Izzy asked. 

“What do you mean?” Slash retorted belligerently. 

“What I mean is: if you can’t watch Axl being pawed at by pretty much everybody, stay on board.”

“Don’t tell me you’re OK with this…this…”

“No, I’m not,” Izzy replied. “But, fuck, how often have we been here? And how often have you seen this happen? Do I like it? No. Can I change it? No. Which is why I’d normally not allow my slaves on shore at a place like this. But, if Axl and Duff decide that they absolutely want to do this to themselves, fine. Their decision. You’ve got five minutes to regain your composure, then I’ll see you in storage room 2 for discharging. Don’t be late.”

“I can handle it,” Duff heard Axl say to Slash, while he himself followed Izzy out of the room. “But it’s nice of you to be so upset.”

Duff had been very surprised when he had noticed that something was going on between Slash and Axl. Surprised, but also happy for them. He didn’t share Izzy’s apprehension. This might as well be Axl’s one and only chance to ever experience love. So even if it came to nothing, he would have at least tried. Nothing in life was worse than missed chances. 

He didn’t have much time to think about Slash and Axl and whether they had a future or not, because for the rest of the day they were busy unloading cargo. Chomo was the home planet of some giant production sites. It was of deregulated status, which meant that the empire’s requirements were treated more like suggestions than actual laws. 

He knew all that because Axl had forced him to read up on Chomo and write an essay about it. A fucking essay. As part of his school assignment. Axl had demanded a thousand words, but Duff had only managed three hundred, claiming that no planet in the entire galaxy was worth more words than two hundred and fifty. 

Sometimes Duff regretted his agreement to become an educated person, because Axl took it all a lot more serious than he did. He hadn’t stopped at helping him out with doing the electronic program, no, he came up with ludicrous assignments all the time, most of them a lot more difficult than Duff was able to handle. But for the next days, he would be blessedly free of school work. 

Setting foot on a new planet was just as exciting as the last time he had done it. Duff didn’t think it would ever get old. The familiar desert heat hit him square in the face and for a short moment he felt homesick. It was gone in an instant and instead replaced by curiosity. 

Sadly, Izzy didn’t leave them any time to explore much, all they were doing was shifting containers from the XXG towards the transport system that would be responsible for final delivery. 

Corridor 7, it turned out, was not a corridor, but a concrete track between port buildings. It led towards the huge transport hub, where long-distance haulers picked up the containers for production plants all over the planet. Their final destination wasn’t even close, Izzy had explained to him. Everything would go somewhere on the other side of the planet. Payment would then be handled via administrative offices that were scattered all over the port. 

Work was not overly hard, but the sun was blazing without mercy, and soon Duff found himself wishing Chomo was another snowy planet. They were just on their last shipment, when suddenly he heard somebody call his name. 

“Duff? Oh my God, Duff!”

He turned around and his first thought was that he was suffering from hallucinations. 

“Claudia?” he asked. “Claudia!”

And then he ran across the track, not caring that Izzy yelled after him and that he was almost hit by somebody else’s motorized container. He threw his arms around his little sister and hugged her. She hugged back with equal force. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, while she looked just as he felt, disbelief and delight all over her face. 

“I signed up with the Transplanet Trade Company, so I’m here on duty. What are _you_ doing here?”

“Same thing, kind of.” 

Duff pointed over his shoulder. Then he turned around and noticed that Izzy had apparently sent off Axl and Slash with the shipment and stood on the other side of the track, hands in his pockets, watching the scene with quiet interest. He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. 

“Oh, fuck, Duff,” Claudia breathed. “Is that your master? Are you in trouble now?”

“Yes,” Duff said. “I mean, no, I mean, fuck, wait a moment, OK?”

He ran back, this time looking out for traffic. 

“Was this an attempt to render all our big plans useless?” Izzy asked. “’cause if you’re planning to kill yourself, say so now. It will save me a lot of trouble.”

“That’s my sister,” Duff said. “I mean, what are the chances?”

Izzy looked over to her. “Doesn’t look much like you.”

“I come after my Dad, my Mom said.” Not that he would know, as he had never met his father. “Can I … can I…, I mean… maybe later, when we’re done here?”

“Complete sentences, Duff,” Izzy said. “And, yeah, sure you can have some time with her. Give me your bracelet.”

He reached for Duff’s hand and set the timer.

“I can only give you an hour, so … hope that’s enough for now. If she stays longer, you can have another one tomorrow, OK? Or, if she’s free, ask her over. I just can’t give you more alone time.”

“Yeah!” Duff exclaimed. “Thank you!” 

And then he just threw himself around Izzy’s neck, and hugged him. 

“All good,” Izzy said and patted his head. “Go over, have some fun. I’ll be at the administration office in an hour anyway, meet me there. If you need me earlier, just activate the alarm. I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks!” Duff said, after he had regained his composure. “I …”

“Go,” Izzy touched his shoulder and pointed into Claudia’s direction. “Your timer is running.” 

Duff returned to his sister, whose expression of delight had turned into one of worry. 

“I’ve got one hour,” Duff said. “Can’t get more here, but … I mean … if you have time, of course.”

She nodded. “An hour should be fine. And if not, I don’t care. Fuck, Duff.” She hugged him again. “There should be some place…”

She pointed into the opposite direction and Duff followed her to a small food place where they got cold drinks and sat outside in the shade.

“So that was your master?” Claudia asked. She didn’t look delighted anymore. Maybe Izzy’s presence had rammed home that his situation wasn’t the most prosperous one. “That man who…”

“Yeah.”

He should probably say something more, but suddenly he didn’t know how. Among the others he had always been cool about what was happening between him and Izzy, but how should he explain it to his sister? Runaway plans or not, at the moment Izzy was still his master, and it would only come out all wrong. Or maybe it would come out all right, but that was by no means better. 

“We were trying to get enough money to buy your contact,” she said. “That’s why I signed up on a trade ship. There was no way we’d manage that on Pitraria. But then we found out that you had been sold and it was impossible to find out to whom.”

“Yeah,” Duff said. “That had me worried, too. How are the others doing?”

She shrugged. “I don’t have much contact because I’m mostly off planet. I doubt they’d let me know unless something was seriously wrong. I suppose, they’re doing OK. Mom is pregnant.”

“Not again!” Duff groaned. “How does she even manage?”

“I don’t think I want to know. It was only after you were gone that we realized how much of our support had been depending on you. I’m really sorry for that. We should all have stepped in more.”

“It’s OK,” Duff said. “I had always hoped that at least one of you would manage to get some training.”

“Yeah, not likely,” Claudia said. “But having another baby to feed will mean, all the money we managed to save will soon be used up again. So, we’re not getting further to buying you back. Do you think he would even let us?”

She looked into the direction they had come from, as if she tried to spot Izzy in the distance.

“I mean, if we’d be able to pay market value, that would already be a lot.”

“Leave it as it is.” Duff fiddled with his bracelet. “I mean, let’s be realistic. Even if you managed, wouldn’t be long, and somebody would have racked up enough debts again to get me impounded. I mean, I can’t remember a single month when we were not trying to scrape the money together to keep from being evicted or having the electricity cut off or something. Add the taxes for owning a slave and … I mean … as awesome as it would be to see you all again … I suppose it would only end badly for me.” 

Claudia looked heartbroken, but she knew he was right. Even if by some miracle they managed to buy him, there was no way they would be able to keep him for long. 

“How are you coping, I mean … how … , she stuttered. “You look good,” she finally added. “Healthy. Better than be before, if I’m honest.”

“I have it good. Really.” Duff said. “I like it where I am. And, I know it’s hard to understand, but I’m happy.”

“Your master … he treats you right?” 

She looked ill at ease asking that question and Duff knew what she was really asking. ‘He’s not fucking you too hard?’ ‘It’s not killing you that you have to do that?’ She knew his misdeed and she knew what the likes of him were sold for. 

He couldn’t even deny that it was happening. And only now did he remember that he had a hickey at the side of his neck. One that she must have seen. He briefly considered to try and hide it, but that would only draw further attention to it. 

“He does,” Duff said, hoping against better knowledge that she would believe him. Had it been the other way round, he wouldn’t have believed her either.

“That’s good. Mom said he lets you write?”

Duff nodded. “You can give me your contact details, too. I mean, I can only use Izzy’s account, but he’s not reading the messages. Really not,” he added when he saw Claudia’s dubious look. 

“You know he can just set them back to unread, right?”

Duff rolled his eyes. He held out his bracelet and Claudia transferred her details in exchange for his. 

“Mom also said that he sent her money. Why is he doing that?”

“That’s my money,” Duff said. Of course, it wasn’t really, but it had felt good being able to send something. “I just can’t make transfers, so Izzy’s got to do it for me.”

“Duff, if you…,” she looked extremely uncomfortable, “if you have to do … something extra for this money, then please don’t. We’ll get along.”

“It’s not like that,” Duff replied, offended. “It’s all good, OK? It’s not like that at all.”

She nodded, but it was clear that she didn’t believe one word of what he was saying. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to hug Izzy before her eyes. 

He wished he could tell her about Goral, but that would be too dangerous. She might pass it on to the rest of the family, even if he asked her not to, and once their Mom knew about it, the whole of Pitraria would. 

“Look, Claudia,” he said, suddenly unwilling to go on like this when all they had was one measly hour. “I got lucky. Really. You know what I had to expect. What I got is so much better.”

She nodded. This she did understand. It didn’t change for one moment that she thought she knew what Izzy was doing to him. What he, if Duff was for once honest with himself, had done to him. It was not the action that was the problem here, it was explaining to Claudia that it had never been a problem, and that was a lost cause. 

“Can we change the topic?” he asked. “Please? We don’t have that much time. For how long will you be here?”

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” she said. So there wouldn’t be a repeat of their meeting. 

“Come on, tell me more. Where are you going? Which planets have you seen? I’ve been to Loomah, but that’s the only one so far.”

For the rest of their time they talked about innocuous topics and when the timer ran out, Claudia accompanied him back to the administrative office. Izzy was already waiting, leaning against a railing and hands in his pockets. He pushed away when he spotted them and came up to meet them. 

“Ready?” he rubbed the back of his neck, before he gave Claudia a curt nod and something close to a smile. 

“Yeah.” Duff turned around and hugged her again. “It’s a shame that you’re already leaving.”

“At least we met.” She turned towards Izzy. “Thank you, sir, for … for giving him the time.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Izzy replied. “If you want to drop by to …” he made a vague hand gesture into Duff’s direction. 

“I can’t,” she said. “I’m on duty.”

They hugged once more. 

“Take care,” Claudia said and Duff thought, as the big brother, he should be the one telling her. 

It was only when he felt Izzy’s hand on his shoulder that he turned around. 

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve still got a ton of work to do.”

Later in the evening, Izzy forwarded him stack of mails that had arrived since Loomah. Two from his family at home, one extra from Jon and another one from Claudia, which had been sent that evening. They were all rather short and impersonal and it was clear that nobody believed that Izzy was not reading over his shoulder. 

There would soon be another sibling, one he would never get to know. And suddenly Duff realized, that if he went to Goral, he wouldn’t even have these short messages anymore. He would just be gone. 

+++

The next days were spent stocking up on supplies. Izzy didn’t send him shopping on his own this time, but still, never in his life had Duff had so many people randomly paw him over. Not even during his prison days. He started to feel like a dog that random strangers would pet in passing. And just like a dog who was subjected to such atrocities from well-meaning citizens, his need to bite grew with every pat he received. Those touches weren’t necessarily sexual, it was just as if people on Chomo knew absolutely no boundaries where slaves were concerned. 

Therefore, he was not really surprised that, when they reunited one evening with Slash and Axl, there were a bleeding nose and scraped knuckles to be treated. What did surprise him was that the damaged body parts belonged to Slash and not to Axl. 

“The other guy started it,” Slash said, when Duff slapped quickhealer on all of it under Izzy’s glare. 

“It’s true,” Axl jumped in. “We were really not doing anything.”

Izzy just kept glaring. 

“Really, chief. He hit me first.”

“What for?” Izzy asked. 

“That’s unfair,” Axl said. “Slash was all polite and told him that, no, he could not fuck me over the bar’s counter.”

“Why were you even in a bar?” Izzy asked back. “You were supposed to work.”

“It was just for a quick break,” Axl went on. 

Izzy gave him an irritated look. “I think if Slash can get into fights on his own, he can explain on his own, too.”

Slash sighed and thanked Duff when he finished treating his wounds. 

“That guy wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. It was something like ‘winner gets to fuck Axl’. And then he hit me, OK?”

“But Slash won!” Axl stated proudly. “Totally beat that fucker into the ground.”

“So now he gets to fuck you?” Izzy asked, still annoyed. “After defending your virtue? Fuck, I don’t care. Do what you want. Just don’t come running for me to pay your out of jail ticket when things go sideways.”

Duff thought it was a bit unfair, but nobody was perfect, he supposed. Izzy had a tendency to blame people for the circumstances they found themselves in. Axl, however, was extremely pleased. Maybe Slash wouldn’t get to fuck Axl tonight, but he would sure get a lot of extra cuddles out of this. 

Izzy sighed and dropped onto the couch in storage room 3. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, “we’re going to watch the fucking dirt races, OK? I checked, Ilmari is on the list of vehicle owners. He should be there. Do me a favour. All of you. Behave yourselves. I know there’s not much that is considered bad behaviour during a dirt race, but it would make me very happy if you could all just stay out of … at least fights. Don’t get arrested. If we attract the attention of the law, it will be over.”

Duff felt a certain nervousness overshadow his excitement. Sure, he loved dirt races, but he got the feeling they wouldn’t see overly much of them anyway.


	37. Silverblue

The race track was way outside town, but as it was not an illegal one, like the track Duff had frequented on Pitraria, there was a shuttle connection which they took. People around them were boisterous and exuberant, wearing the colours of their racing teams, singing their hymns, while the four of them were rather subdued in comparison. Izzy stared glumly out of the window, Axl fidgeted nervously in his place and Slash had sought out refuge behind his hair. 

Duff did feel a bout of excitement now and then, but somehow had the feeling that it would not be appreciated if he showed it outwardly. When they finally reached their destination, he was unable to keep his agitation under control. He had checked out the track on the system the night before and had automatically mapped all the difficulties in his mind. He considered it less dangerous than his home track, but it did have some obstacles. 

There was the artificial ford, two tunnels, one of them single track, one wide enough to try and overtake inside, and few very nasty curves. The final stretch was made for pure speeding, which was a risk in itself. The engines tended to be overheated towards the end of a race, and had to be handled with delicacy. 

It meant that while the first part was mainly designed to show off the pilot’s skill, success in the end also depended on how the engineer had kept up during the race, and how much power the engine could safely deliver. More than once had Duff seen racers go up in flames, just by ignoring the limitations of a badly tuned engine. 

They were early. It would be several hours until the race started, but to Duff everything was exciting. Now was the time when the racers were checked and tuned and checked again and Izzy’s contact person would hopefully have some time for them. 

Izzy parked Slash and Axl on a mostly empty spectator tribune, far away from the already drunk hardcore fans, who would try to get closer to the base camps than was strictly allowed and who would, before the race had even started, pick fights with the competing fans. 

Then he took Duff along to search for Ilmari. 

“Stay close, try to behave submissively and don’t talk,” Izzy said while they walked past the different camps. “And stop looking like a child in a candy shop, for fuck’s sake. We’re not here for the fun of it. This is a business trip, not a family outing.”

Duff didn’t see why it couldn’t be both, but he kept his mouth shut. Not looking excited, however, that was another cup of tea. As soon as the typical smell of fuel and burning hot steel hit his nostrils, the yearning was back. Izzy had promised that they would stay to watch, but what Duff really wanted was to be one of the participants once again, feel the rush of adrenaline and get dizzy from the speed. 

Ilmari’s camp was somewhere towards the back. Duff immediately checked out the racer. It was a modern vehicle, not like the scrap metal ones he had been piloting, sleek and shining electric blue finish with silver stripes along the sides. The engine was laid open and Duff automatically labelled its different parts. 

Most of what he knew about mechanics was instinctive. He had never been formally trained, often couldn’t even explain why he did what he was doing, only knew deep down that it would work out. This time, however, he realized to his surprise that his view had changed. If it was up to him to maintain the engine today, he would know what had to be done why. Slash’s tutoring was paying off. 

“Duff,” Izzy admonished softly. “We don’t have time for that. Maybe later.”

Only then did Duff notice that he had started to dawdle. Right. They were here to buy illegal assemblee shots, so that they could all go together to Goral. Maybe there were dirt races in Goral, too. 

When Izzy made out Ilmari at the side of the camp and pointed him out to Duff, he was yelling into a communicator and gesticulating wildly with both hands while he did so. He was small, skinny and in urgent need to have his hair transplants updated. Duff could make out several bald spots between the tufts of unnaturally full looking inky black locks. 

Izzy waited until he was done yelling before he approached him. The look he got when Ilmari recognized him may not have spoken of undying friendship, but wasn’t exactly a death glare either. 

“Izzy?” he asked, seemingly unimpressed by his visitor. “Back in the waters?”

“Looks like it.”

Izzy did his best to look as unimpressed as Ilmari, but by now Duff knew him well enough to see the nervousness seep through the outer coolness. This was important and he wasn’t sure about the outcome. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever met without you having some strange requests for me. So what is it this time? And, quick, I have pressing matters.”

Izzy nodded. “Assemblee shots,” he said. “A two year supply.”

Ilmari looked taken aback. “What?” 

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t believe what I’m hearing. Where did you even get one? And why the fuck would you?” He looked at Duff. “Him?”

“What? Oh, no,” Izzy said as if he had just noticed that Duff was standing behind him. “Does it matter what I need them for?”

“Not really.” Ilmari scratched his head and another tuft of hair transplant came loose. He let it fly away in the wind without even looking after it. “Look, this is nothing I happen to have on hand. I would have to tap my contacts in the factories and this is nothing you discuss over the system, but it person. That would mean a journey around half the planet. And I don’t have the time for that, so, no, sorry, no assemblee shots. Good bye, it was nice to see you again, send my regards to the wife and the kids.”

He turned his back to them and switched through some information on his bracelet. 

“But theoretically you would be able to provide?”

“Are you still there?” he snapped. “Of course you are. Still can’t take no for an answer, huh? Yes, theoretically. Now go away. I don’t have time for chitchat. My pilot broke his fucking leg. Two hours ago. Can you imagine that? He fell from a ladder. A fucking ladder. What was he doing on a ladder on racing day? And now I have to find a new one. So, unless you happen to have a dirt race pilot stashed somewhere, we are finished here, understood?”

“He does happen to have on,” Duff said. 

“Duff,” Izzy growled under his breath. 

“A pilot, I mean.”

Ilmari stared at him, as if he was some tame animal who had surprised him by its mastery of the human speak. 

“You do have a pilot?” Ilmari asked. “One of your men?”

Izzy pointed his thumb into Duff’s direction. “Doesn’t mean he will race.”

“How good are you, kid? Where did you race? Which type of racers? Success report?”

“Pitraria,” Duff said. “The track in Roan.”

Then he rattled off the specifics of his experiences. He added a few to make it more impressive, but he knew what he was talking about. He doubted somebody would notice the lies.

“They have quite the course on Pitraria,” Ilmari said. “I’ve seen it once. Got a few nasty traps, that one. Illegal, isn’t it?”

Duff shrugged. 

“Means you’ll need a license. I can get you a guest license for today. And a suit. You’re taller than my pilot, so… hm. If you’re really gonna race, I mean.” He pointed towards the vehicle. “Have a look at this beauty. If you’re a true pilot, you know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, I happened to admire her on the way up,” Duff said. “But it’s up to Izzy.”

Ilmari gave Izzy a hard stare. “You will want the freaking shots in exchange, won’t you?”

Izzy smacked his lips in reply. 

“All right. I’ll get somebody on it. Will still take some time to have them delivered.”

“That’s fair,” Izzy said. “Duff will be ready, as soon as the delivery is here.”

“Yeah,” Ilmari scratched his head again and more hair sailed away. “That would be a bit late, right? Tell you what? Here’s another incentive. Your boy places under the first three and you’ll get them for half the price.”

“You didn’t even mention the price,” Izzy said. “How am I supposed to know what half of it is?”

Duff didn’t know how much money they had exactly, but he was reasonable sure that the sum Ilmari stated was far above that. 

“OK,” Izzy said. “But we need the shit within a week. And we are also providing the engineer.”

Ilmari bristled. “No way am I letting some random guy fuck with my racer!” 

“No way am I letting my slave here pilot a dirt racer with some random engineer.” Izzy gave back. “Your decision.”

“OK,” he said, grating his teeth. “But if you fuck up the car…”

“Nope,” Izzy said. “Dirt racers get fucked up during races all the time. I won’t take responsibility for that. The deal is: my boy here pilots, you get the merchandise and if he places, we pay half. He can kill himself by exploding to heaven high, for all I care, that won’t influence the deal.”

There was a bit more back and forth, but in the end, they shook hands on the agreement. 

“I should kick your ass for this,” Izzy hissed, when they were leaving to get Axl and Slash. There wouldn’t be much time to sort out the racer and Izzy wanted Slash to check the engine over. “Really. I would have gotten him around without this … this shit.”

“Would you really be able to pay full price?” Duff asked. 

“No, but once that stuff is here, what does he want to do with it? There isn’t exactly a huge black market for assemblee shots. He would have sold them to me in the end.”

Duff wasn’t so sure. “So, what was that about the engineer?”

“I’ll do it,” Izzy said. 

“You know how to man a dirt racer engine?” Duff asked surprised. 

“I have no fucking clue, but you’re still not laying your life into the hands of some idiot I don’t even know. Can’t be so difficult. I know how to maintain a fucking spaceship engine, I’ll get the hang of some measly dirt racer. The worst that can come out of this is that you don’t place. And, just as a warning, don’t even fucking try. The goal here is to get out of the freaking race alive, not deliver an amazing performance.”

Duff had a different opinion, but he kept it to himself. If Izzy decided to curb the output, he wouldn’t stand a chance to win anyway. It was a bummer, but one he would have to deal with. Knowing that he would soon be sitting in the cockpit of a dirt racer was enough to make his heart beat faster. 

After Izzy had explained the newest development to the others, Slash made him repeat the whole story. Twice. 

“Have you lost your mind?” he then asked. 

“Ask Duff,” Izzy replied. “That’s what you get when you allow people to make their own decisions. You go out to buy some illegal drugs and you end participating in a race with a death count about as high as a minor space battle.”

“It’s not as bad,” Duff protested. 

“It is,” Slash said. “If you go percentual, then, yes, I’ve seen battles with less casualties than your average dirt race.”

Duff rolled his eyes. Yes, now and then somebody would die, but not during every race. Injuries, now that was something else. 

“So where is this piece of scrap metal we have to get up to snuff,” Slash groused while they made their way once more past the camps. “And how do I even tune it? I mean … what do I have to take care of?”

“I can show you,” Duff said. It sounded weird in his ears. So far it had always been Slash showing him. “If the engine is properly maintained it’s not that difficult. It’s just about getting it in tune with my way of piloting. I should probably do a test run. There must be a practice track somewhere.”

Hopefully it would be close enough that they would manage before the race started. 

He fell back when Axl suddenly tucked at his sleeve. 

“Thanks,” he whispered. “I mean, that’s awesome. That you’re doing this.”

Duff smiled. “I guess it’s in my interest, too. Would make me a lot happier if you guys all came along.”

“Still,” Axl said. “I mean, you could all go if you wanted. I’m the stumbling block in all this.”

“Forget it, Axl.” Duff put an arm around Axl’s shoulder. “We go all or none at all. OK, I would still have to go, I suppose, or I won’t be able to look into the mirror anymore, but, yeah. Pretend I said I wouldn’t go without you.”

The racer was very different from what Duff was used to. For a moment he looked a little forlorn at the fully electronic cockpit, but then, after a moment of panic that he might have bitten off more than he could chew, he found his way around. Ilmari’s team of mechanics was more than a little annoyed when Izzy shoed them off, and then the three of them started working. 

In the end, after they had made a quick spin, nobody was happy with the result. Duff was annoyed with Izzy for not giving him enough power, Izzy was annoyed with Duff for driving like a suicidal maniac, and Slash told them that they just sucked at being a team. 

“Fuck it,” he finally said. “I’ll man the freaking engine.”

“No, you won’t,” Izzy replied. 

“Yes, I will,” Slash gave back. “’cause, sorry, man, you have no feeling for this.”

“Says who!” 

“Says I!” Duff and Slash exclaimed in unison. 

“Look, Izzy,” Slash tried so obviously to sound reasonable, Duff would have felt pity for him if he hadn’t been so upset himself. “If Duff gets frustrated and tries to get more out of the engine than you’re willing to give him, the fucker will overheat.”

“Then he’ll better not try to get more than I’m willing to give.”

“It doesn’t work that way, chief!” Slash yelled. “You give the pilot what the pilot wants, not the other way round. ‘cause, guess what, he’s called the pilot ‘cause he’s doing the fucking piloting, and he’s the one to manage the fucking risks and your one and only job is to make sure he can fucking do it!”

“Fine!” Izzy yelled back. “Have it your way. But if you both kill yourself, don’t come crying afterwards!”

He turned around and marched off to … Duff had no idea. 

“Should I…”

“Nope,” Slash said. “No time for Izzy’s hurt pride, we need to get this fucker sorted out.”

In the end Axl ran after Izzy and Duff and Slash turned round after round until they were both confident that they would survive and still deliver an acceptable performance. 

+++

Izzy knew he was not behaving reasonably. This was a race, not a Sunday afternoon trip. If he wanted to keep at least a bit of credibility with Ilmari, then he had to deliver more than just some cruising about, after everybody else had gotten ahead of them. 

At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel worried. It wasn’t only that dirt races were dangerous as fuck. Duff wasn’t familiar with the car and the last time he had piloted one had been ages ago. He was also reasonably convinced that part of the track record he had given had been made up on the spot. He knew Duff’s way of looking slightly upward when he was embellishing a story. 

So now he was sitting with Axl on the tribune between yelling and screaming idiots, and watched unhappily how the racers were manoeuvred into starting position. Duff and Slash were second to the left which would give them a head start for the first curve, but also meant that everybody would try to force them off the track on the way there. 

Izzy tried to not let on how nervous he was. Axl fidgeting next to him was bad enough. Sadly, it was also contagious and he was slowly reaching a point where he wanted to tell him to just sit still for a fucking minute. 

The signal came and the racers were off. Duff and Slash delivered a good start. They soon found their place somewhere in the upper midfield and were able to at least defend that position. Izzy had to admit that they were indeed a good team. Not that it came as a surprise. They were working together on a daily base. 

As a mechanic he couldn’t hold a candle to Slash, but he was not so sure that Slash was able to handle Duff’s personal brand of utter recklessness. In fact, the combination of both their suicidal tendencies could just as well be the spark that set it all afire. Literally. 

And so he was just as unsurprised when with each mile Duff’s piloting grew bolder and bolder. He started to take risky passing manoeuvres. Sometimes successfully while other times he was almost smashed against the barriers, but, hey, that was Duff for you. 

After yet another curve they were not able to watch the racers directly anymore, but had to rely on the huge three-dimensional screens that surrounded the tribunes into all directions. 

After behaving almost sensibly for a few miles, Duff suddenly accelerated from an absolutely insane position, just to reach the entry to the single path tunnel ahead of some other car. Metal scraped against metal, sparks flew from the engine and for a moment it looked as if the vehicles would crash together into the tunnel’s mouth. Luckily the other pilot decided that his life was worth more than a bit of headway and pulled back. 

“They’re gonna kill themselves,” Axl breathed, eyes wide, ass perched on the corner of the seat. 

“I know,” Izzy replied, forcing his hands to lie still in his lap. 

There was no broadcasting from the tunnel and so he held his breath until he spotted the blue silver car come out of the mouth on the next screen. It was a lot less blue now, part of the paint scratched off by what Izzy assumed must have been the tunnel’s wall. He would have a serious talk with Duff, once this was over. 

“Fuck!” Axl yelled.

He jumped off his seat and Izzy followed suit, together with about a few thousand spectators. Duff, that idiot, had tried another stupid overtaking and failed. He ran right off the track, and rolled over twice in the sand trap. For a moment Izzy feared for the worst. But then, even before the car had come to a complete halt, the back wheels started to turn, trying to find grip in the sand. Before he had time to recover from his heart attack, they were back in the race. The audience was screaming in excitement. 

“Yeah!” Axl yelled “You go, Duff!” 

And then he threw himself around Izzy’s neck, almost toppling him over, before he sat down again to continue clutching the edge of his seat. Izzy followed a bit more slowly, but would have to admit, once he was over his annoyance about the whole story in general, that it had been one hell of a manoeuvre. 

They had lost quite a bit of their previous headway, which meant, Duff’s recklessness increased by the minute. He took one risk after the other until Izzy was ready to scream. He was successful, though, ploughing his way from almost the back of the field back forward until, to Izzy’s amazement, he was among the first five. 

He almost got lost again when he had to cross the water feature. The ford was only made for one car at a time, but Duff decided to give it a try and make it one and a half. He just squeezed in and pushed the car next to them into the pool where it slowly sank down. 

He took the next tunnel with just as much speed as the first one and came out with even less paint and, if Izzy saw correctly, part of the metal trim missing, but who cared. They made it into the final stretch as number four and Izzy knew what would happen before it did. The engine was already smoking when they entered this section, but Duff didn’t care. He just gave it all. 

Izzy watched with growing horror as the first flames blazed up. Within seconds the tail of the racer caught fire. Duff, however, didn’t care. He didn’t even slow down. And he wasn’t the only one. One of the racers behind him didn’t only catch fire, but completely combusted. The rescue teams did their best to extinguish the flames, but it would be a miracle if the pilot got out halfway intact. 

And right now, Slash and Duff were about to expect the same fate. Yes, they would come in as number three, but they would also be dead. The car before them was unable to keep this insane speed up without catching fire themselves and apparently had a sensible pilot, one with a will to continue living. He made some feeble attempt to keep Duff … the tail end fully burning now … from overtaking, but gave up. 

Izzy almost bit off his tongue, while Axl next to him was yelling and screaming and then the cars came around the corner and were within their field of vision again. Now Izzy did jump up and he didn’t wait for them to reach the finish line. He ran down the steps, Axl on his heels and then he saw the silver blue car cross the line where it was intercepted by the rescue team and drenched in extinguishing foam. 

For a moment all Izzy saw was foam and more foam, but at least the car did not explode. Then the back door was pulled open and Slash all but fell out. He stumbled a couple of steps out of the way, pulled off his helmet, sank to his knees and started retching. 

After yet another eternity the front door opened and Duff emerged. He was a lot more stable on his feet and when he spotted Izzy, he removed his helmet and, grinning all over his face, walked into his direction, strutting across the field as if he was the hero of the day. Yeah, maybe because he fucking was. 

Izzy met him halfway, ready to hit him square into the face. Instead he grabbed him by his hair and kissed him within an inch of his life. 

“You fucking idiot,” he growled and kissed him again. “Do something like that again and I’ll skin you alive.”

But nothing was able to dampen Duff’s mood at that moment. 

In the meanwhile, Axl had helped Slash to his feet and got him something to drink. Suddenly Ilmari was there, loud and excited like he only got during racing time, and hugged Duff repeatedly to his chest.

“Sell me the boy, Izzy,” he said. “And you’ll get your shots for free on top of it.”

“Just get me the shots and we’re even,” Izzy replied. “Duff’s not for sale.”

“I’ll pay double the market value,” Ilmari tried again, but Izzy only gave him a tired look. “You’re casting pearls before swine here. You’re dragging him around on that ship of yours when in fact he should get regular training. All he needs is a bit more practice and experience! I’ll make him fucking famous! You want that, kid, don’t you? See, Izzy, he totally wants to!” 

“When will you have the delivery?” Izzy said, shaking his head. 

“Triple?”

“Ilmari!”

“Four days. It’s quite a lot, nothing you can just spirit away on the sly. Takes a bit of time.”

“OK,” Izzy said. “I’ll be back with the money.”

He seized Duff’s wrist and pulled him away before he came to the decision that Goral was overrated and he wanted to end his life on a dirt race track instead.

“Triple and you’ll get free tickets to each and every race! For the rest of your life, Izzy!” Ilmari called after him. 

Four days was good. It would give him time to actually make enough money. Even with having the price just cut in half, he had to hit the black market and sell the Quixx he had bought on Loomah. 

Chomo was a natural port of call for pretty much every type of unsavoury business. Whenever Izzy had a job on Chomo, he resorted to old habits and made use of the Quixx license he didn’t really need any more, but had never handed in, to earn a bit of money on the side. 

They had almost made it out of the arena, Duff talking a mile a minute and hugging random strangers every other step, Slash still a bit green around the nose, when they ran into Jari, of all people 

“I didn’t know you were racing,” he exclaimed, grabbing Duff by the shoulders and shaking him, as if they were best friends. 

“It was … a spur of the moment decision,” Duff replied. 

“And, man, what a race! Even though you’ve not won, you totally made the headlines!” 

He pointed at one of the screens, where Duff’s rollover manoeuvre was replayed in slow motion for what must have been the hundredth time. Unfortunately, it was followed by a headshot of Duff, taken directly after he had gotten out of the racer. Fuck, did he look awesome, confident, proud, grinning like that, his hair all wild and sweat slicked around his head. Even with the collar around his neck nobody could have mistaken him for a slave. 

But, yeah, it also meant that, everybody who was interested in dirt races – and on Chomo, that was about the entire population – would recognize him for the rest of their stay. Duff would be a minor celebrity. 

“Absolutely brilliant!” Jari hugged Duff to his broad chest and for a moment Izzy thought Axl would attack him. “I have to buy you a drink, man!”

“Get in line,” Izzy said, trying to not sound like a jealous asshole, but, fuck, if one more person hugged Duff or slapped his shoulder or declared that they would buy him a drink, he would blow his cork. 

“Will do!” Jari exclaimed cheerfully. “I’m sure we’ll see each other later!”

“No, we won’t,” Axl muttered, but it was not likely that Jari heard him. “Fuck, what’s gotten into him?”

“He just loves dirt races,” Izzy explained with a sigh. “Totally. We don’t have them where I was born, for obvious reasons, but they were broadcast a lot. And Jari watched them all.”

“I can’t believe it,” Axl grumbled. “Why is it all about Duff and nothing about Slash anyway?”

“Because being the pilot is way cooler than being the engineer,” Duff jibed, still unable to make one single normal step as he skipped along. “And because I didn’t puke.”

“If I’d known your driving style, I would have let Izzy do it,” Slash muttered. “Then you would have exploded on that last stretch, but that would have only served you right.”

“Next time you’ll know it,” Duff said. 

“There won’t be a next time,” Izzy cut them short. “Not until Goral. Once we’re there, you’re free to kill yourself every which way you want, but until then: no more dirt races.”

“Spoilsport,” Duff said and then – Izzy couldn’t believe it – he stuck out his tongue.

Lis was right. He really owned the worst behaved slaves in the entire galaxy. And, he thought proudly, he had trained them to that standard all on his own. 

+++

The rest of the evening they spent celebrating. Slash picked the bar, some dirty hole in the wall that was right up his road. As Izzy had feared, pretty much all of Chomo had watched the race, and Slash and Duff became very popular very fast. 

Izzy didn’t begrudge them their minute of fame, but he kept a bit of an eye on Duff, who was suddenly surrounded by lots of people who wanted to buy him drinks and talk to him and be his best friend. After being treated like shit for over a year now, something like that could quickly grow over his head. 

But Duff knew how to handle the situation, Izzy noticed. When somebody bought him a drink, he picked it up himself and held on to the glass until it was empty. He took care that he always had a way out, was never backed into a corner and made sure to not grace one person with more attention than the next. 

Izzy leant against the backrest of his bench, sipped his own drink, and watched the scene from afar. 

Slash had Axl’s hand in his own pretty much all the time, shielding him more or less successfully against too many unwanted touches. Duff, as one of the heroes of the hour, was under far less direct attack that night. For a short while he had managed the step up from slave to human being and was treated that way. A hand on his ass now and then was all he had to deal with, instead of people trying to fuck him over a table. Axl, however, was fair game. 

As the evening progressed and people got more and more drunk, there were suddenly other complications added to the equation. Izzy spotted somebody pushing a slave girl onto her knees to deliver a blowjob. It was only the first incident. Soon there would be more, and so he stood up and pulled Slash out of his throng of admirers. 

“Get Axl home,” he whispered and pointed over to where now somebody had sat another girl onto a table and was busy ridding her of her clothes. “Or at least somewhere else. Take a stroll in the moonlight for all I care, just … get him out of here.”

Slash looked confused at first, but then he understood. Apparently, he wasn’t drunk enough yet. 

“See you tomorrow,” Izzy said. “Enjoy your evening.”

And then he went over to Duff, took his wrist and pulled him away from a group of men who were getting a bit too handsy for his tastes. 

“Just recovering my property,” he said sweetly when some of the guys protested. 

“Captain?” one of them called. 

“Yeah?”

“We were wondering … would you sell him?”

“What?” Izzy asked. This was about the twentieth offer he had received today and it started to rub him the wrong way.

“He’s an awesome guy and we thought …,” he motioned towards three other dudes next to himself, “ … if we put the money together, maybe we could afford him.”

“I’ll think about it,” Izzy replied and pulled Duff along.

“You’ll think about it?” Duff asked, clearly offended. “Where’s Slash and Axl.”

“Sent them home.” Izzy pointed out the increasingly open sexual acts around them. “This is a bit too much for Axl.”

“What do you mean, you’ll think about it?” Duff asked again. 

He was a little tipsy, bordering on drunk. He would, however, soon be on the way to totally inebriated, if left to his own devices, and latest then he would find himself spread out on one of the tables, hero of the day or not. 

Izzy gave him a sharp look, but, no Duff didn’t really believe he would sell him. He was far too petulant about it. 

They found a free booth a bit away from everything and Izzy told him to sit on the bench. Duff put his glass down on the table, but remained standing. 

“What do you mean, you’ll think about it?” he demanded, his mouth pulled into a definite pout. 

Izzy took a seat next to him and pulled him into his lap. 

“What I mean,” he whispered into Duff’s ear, “is that you have been behaving impossible all day. You defied me … how many times? I’ve stopped counting.”

“You’ve said I needed to act like a free person,” Duff protested. 

“And did I tell you to behave first reckless, then suicidal and finally like a total slut? That guy over there had his hands all over you!”

“Yeah, fuck, maybe that’s because I am a slut,” Duff replied. “I thought you knew that. It’s in my file, or so I thought.”

“I do,” Izzy replied. He moved his hand down to Duff’s knee and let it slowly wander upwards. “Doesn’t mean you can just be anybody’s slut.”

“No?” Duff asked, a little breathless already. 

“No!”

“Izzy?” Duff whispered back. “Are you jealous?”

Izzy snorted. “Why should I be?” He grabbed Duff’s dick through the fabric of his pants and squeezed. “When you’re already getting this hard for me?”

Duff squirmed a little. He was indeed hard, but it shouldn’t be uncomfortable. He still didn’t possess a single fitting pair of pants, so there was room enough. 

“Tell me,” Izzy nipped at his ear, doing his best to let his voice go dark. “If I told you to come, here, in front of all of your new friends, would you do it?”

Duff wriggled under his hand, trying to get some friction. Izzy was happy to provide. 

“You know,” Duff gasped. “I thought a lot about all those things you’ve said. About how you made me yours. And how I had no choice in the matter. I don’t agree.”

He twisted his hips some more, and Izzy grew hard himself. Duff had to feel it, but if so, he didn’t mind at all. On the contrary. 

“Yes, I am yours, but not because you trained me. I made the decision to be yours. And I never want to be anybody else’s. Would I have gone to Goral without you? Absolutely. Would I ever have been happy there? No. And why not? Because I’m yours.”

Duff pushed his feet up on the bench. He leant against Izzy’s chest, let his head fall back on his shoulder, legs wide open, not even hiding what they were doing here. He was panting softly already. Izzy pushed his free hand under his shirt, moving it up until he exposed his belly. He sucked at Duff’s neck, placing a new hickey next to the already fading one. Duff turned his head to the side, providing better access. 

“And if it’s gonna make you happy that I come at your command, in front of a horde of strangers,” he continued between soft wheezes, “then I’ll do it. And if you want to fuck me like that guy over there is doing, on one of the tables, then I’ll come screaming your name. Would I mind? No. Why should I? I would be proud to do so. Why? Because I’m yours. And do you know why else? Because, you’re mine.”

Izzy opened Duff’s pants and pushed his hand into his shorts. 

“Come for me!” he ordered. 

And Duff came.


	38. Desert Night

Axl didn’t want to go home. 

“Why are we leaving when everybody is staying?” he asked stubbornly, when Slash manoeuvred him out of the bar, taking a zig zag course to avoid the most blatant sexual acts that suddenly started to pop up everywhere. “Because people are fucking? I’ve seen that before.”

‘No, because people are fucking unwilling slaves,’ would have been the correct answer. 

“Because I need some fresh air,” Slash said instead. “And because I’d love it if you came along for a walk, but if you want to go back to Duff and Izzy…”

“Are you mad?” Axl asked. “In less than another hour Izzy will have Duff over a table just like that.”

If it even took that long, Slash thought. It made him run away from the bar even faster. 

“So, anything you would like to see?” he asked. Axl was always curious about new planets. He had seen so little of the world. 

“Maybe we can go somewhere that … isn’t port?” he suggested a little hesitantly. “Or buildings or so.”

“Nature?” Slash asked. He knew that Izzy sometimes took Axl to see countryside, an ocean or a forest and he wondered if there was something similar around. “I think there’s only the desert. But if you want, we can look for a transport somewhere and drive out for a bit.”

“Yeah,” Axl replied. “I’d like that.”

They searched for a transport station and picked up a personal vehicle. Slash had no idea if there were any locations that were extra sight-worthy, but he wasn’t even sure that it mattered. They ended on a piece of rubble and sand, between hardy little plants. When they switched off the lights from the car, it was for a moment so dark that they could hardly make out each other. But then their eyes adjusted and the two moons provided enough illumination to walk around a bit. 

It was eerie, the pale light, the harsh wind, the cool night air. Slash wasn’t exactly a nature type, but Axl seemed content as they followed what looked like a trail. Eventually he climbed up some huge rock and sat down on top. Slash followed suit. 

“Happy?” he asked and put an arm around his shoulder.

“No idea.” Axl snuggled into him. “Sometimes I wonder if I even know what that is. I mean, I look at Duff and I wonder, fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that.”

Slash had no reply to that. It was true, somehow. He had seen Axl content more and more lately, had seen his shy smile break through the usual contempt, but happiness? Maybe sometimes, in short bursts here and there, but not as a lasting emotion. 

“Kiss me,” Axl said. “Like you mean it.”

“I always mean it,” Slash replied and did as requested. 

Axl’s lips were a bit rough under his. Izzy had once explained it to him, that the toxins he produced might be counteracted by the shots he got, but that they still disturbed the metabolism of fast regenerating cells like skin or hair. 

“What’s wrong?” Axl whispered against his mouth when the thought had made him stop. 

“Nothing.” 

Axl pushed him back onto the rock and climbed on top of him. He straddled his hips and bent down to kiss him. Slash reached for the bandana, tucked lightly, and when Axl didn’t protest, pulled it off. Hair, soft and silky, fell over him while Axl’s tongue searched for and received entrance. 

There had been a lot of kissing during the last month. Lots of kissing and nothing else, until Slash sometimes thought he would combust from all the pent-up sexual tension. With no room for himself and only a few alone minutes in what was practically a community shower with far more users than he liked, even jerking off had turned into something quick during those rare moments that offered an opportunity. 

He reached up and buried his hand in Axl’s hair, then moved them over his back and finally pushed them under his shirt, when all of a sudden, Axl sat back. 

“I want to suck you off,” he said. 

“What?” Slash propped himself up onto his elbows. The rough stone pressed painfully into his arms, and he shifted to find a better position. 

“I want to take your dick into my mouth and suck until you come,” Axl repeated. “If you let me.”

One of the weirdest aspects of anything remotely sexual with Axl was that he always had to state his intentions as if he was reading an instruction manual. Without the slightest emotion behind it, as if it was just a technicality that had to be taken care of. 

“Yeah, if you … if you really want to. Why do you want to?”

“Because of what you did today. You and Duff. You risked your life for me and I figured, I should do something to thank you. But I won’t suck off Duff, just you. Izzy can take care of Duff.”

“You don’t have to suck me off to thank me.” Slash sat up fully now. 

He still had Axl in his lap, and he realized that his dick was hard against his ass. Maybe that was why Axl thought it was a good idea to deliver a thank you blowjob.

“I know I don’t have to. But I want to. Sooner or later I have to learn how to do it anyway, so I thought, today was a good occasion.” 

Slash wished he could see Axl’s face more clearly, but even with two moons it was a bit difficult. He should say ‘no’. Of course, he should say ‘no’. Only this was going on for ages now and they were not really getting anywhere past increasingly heated kissing. 

“How about you use your hand?” he suggested. 

“I have heard it’s better if you do it with your mouth.”

Put like that it was difficult to contradict. Slash was only a human being - a human being with far too little sex in a far too long time. And here was Axl, willing and beautiful and ‘no’ just wouldn’t come over his lips. 

“If you are really sure,” he said. 

“I am.”

“Ok then, I guess.”

Slash rested back on his elbows again and spread his legs a bit. Axl shifted down between his thighs and studied his genital area as if he was trying to remember the proper instructions about how to work a dick. It should be a complete turn off, but somehow, Slash had to admit, the intense concentration with which Axl went to work, was kind of arousing. 

Then there were fingers on his fly, hesitant at first, then surely, opening his pants, shifting his underwear and pulling out his dick. 

“You should get rid of your clothes, I suppose,” Axl said. “At least your pants. They are somehow in the way.”

Slash did as requested, and resumed position again. He expected Axl to be hesitant, but instead he grabbed his cock firmly, bent forward and took the head into his mouth. After that he seemed to be at a loss on how to proceed and let go again. In went like this several times, until he finally managed to take it a little bit deeper. 

It was not exactly an award-worthy performance, but nobody could say that Axl didn’t do his best. Yes, he was clumsy, yes, he never went deeper than the first two inches, no, he was not aware that using his tongue might make things more interesting and, in the end, Slash just came because he had been close to combustion for weeks. It was still one of the most emotional sexual encounters he could remember. 

Axl looked a bit overwhelmed. He had pulled back just in time to not have to swallow, but had gotten a bit of the load onto his face. Slash sat up and wiped it away with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Want me to…,” he asked and motioned towards Axl’s dick. 

Axl shook his head. “I’m good.” 

Slash kissed him again, but as Axl wouldn’t open his mouth, it ended as a soft brush of lips. 

“Want to go home?” 

“No.”

He wouldn’t get much more, Slash knew. Maybe he just needed time to process what he had just done or maybe he just liked the desert at night. Axl wouldn’t tell and Slash wouldn’t find out. 

He put on his pants again and laid back onto the rock. It took a while, but eventually he felt Axl stretch out close to him. Next to each other they watched the moons make their way across the firmament, until the shy blush of dawn crept over the horizon. 

+++

The next days they spent with maintenance work. Izzy, however, was gone quite often and when he came back, he looked grumbly and unhappy. 

“I asked him what he was doing,” Duff said one evening when he was in the kitchen with Axl. “But all he said was ‘humph’.”

“He’s trying to sell some illegal shit, I’d say,” Axl replied. “Izzy likes to pretend he’s all on the straight and narrow now, but he always does at least a little bit on the side. I suppose it’s about the Quixx.” 

“So that’s what he needs it for?” Duff asked surprised. “I thought we were maybe having a secret defence system somewhere.”

“No,” Axl snorted. “Nothing like that. But Izzy was doing logistics for a weapon company for a while. That did suck, I tell you. I mean, this ship is a health risk all on its own, but having the storage full of explosives was not funny. That’s how he got the Quixx license. Quixx is not a weapon per se, it’s a stabiliser. And he just didn’t bother to hand it in when he called it quits on that part of the business. Now it’s all factory supplies. Pays less, but at least you get to survive.”

“Doesn’t seem to sell that well,” Duff said. “If he can’t get rid of it.”

“Oh, it does. Quixx is always in demand because of the short half-life. You can store your explosives for a lifetime, but Quixx needs to be renewed all the fucking time. Izzy’s only never content with the price he’s getting.” 

“I never know how tight on money we really are,” Duff said. It was one of the big mysteries to him. “I mean, whenever I say we need something, Izzy looks at me as if I was cutting a pound of flesh out of him, but when I try to scratch something off the list, he’s complaining that I think we should do without.”

“It’s not the money,” Axl said. “It’s the blasted ship. If she was a normal ship, everything would be fine, but as you never know which part will give out on you next week and what it might cost us, Izzy has to make sure he has enough put aside to cover whatever blows up next. It’s better since you’ve joined, simply because we are more ahead with maintenance, but usually stuff gets destroyed by sheer negligence. Simply because we didn’t manage to keep everything serviced at the same time. And now it’s even better. You can say about those fuckers up here what you want, but you and me we spend a lot more time in the engine room than we used to. The ship has never been in such a good shape.”

He stopped when Mikah entered the kitchen. He had now and then helped them with cooking, but not anymore since his return to his rightful owners. 

“Wanna help?” Axl handed him a knife and pointed towards a huge pile of vegetables. As they were still in port, they were making the most out of it by cooking tons of food that had a very low shelf life. 

“Yes, please.” By now Mikah new the drill. 

He was a good worker, quiet and diligent and even Axl had warmed up to him. He had seemed almost a bit disappointed that he was now deprived of his apprentice. 

“What’s wrong?” Duff asked after a while. 

Mikah was always quiet, but he had opened up a little bit during the last month. At least he had seemed comfortable around them, almost content in comparison to his previous despair about being shoved over to a new owner. They had shared a room for a while, and even though he had spent more and more nights in Izzy’s bed, they had gotten along well. 

“Anything we can help with?” Duff prodded. 

“I guess I’m just missing this a bit,” Mikah said. 

“Cooking?” Axl asked. 

“Working with you guys.”

“Dude, you mainly counted screws,” Axl reminded him. “That’s not exactly a stimulating activity.”

“But it had to be done,” Mikah replied. “I’ve worked with numbers all my life. I know how important tasks like that one are. And I didn’t only count screws. I counted a lot of things. Most of which I had never seen in all my life. It was interesting.”

“Really?” Duff asked. 

He had felt a bit bad about all the counting, but as Axl had been the one organizing Mikah’s schedule, he hadn’t said anything. 

“Yes.” Mikah looked positively unhappy now and Duff got the feeling that this was not about work at all. 

“What’s the real problem?” he asked. “Come on, we know each other well enough.”

Mikah took a deep breath. “I don’t want to go to Goral. I wish I could stay with you.”

“Huh,” Axl made. “You’d rather be a slave?”

“I’ve always been a slave. I don’t know how to not be a slave. And I liked working with you. It was … it was… I’ve never known it could be like that. I’ve never worked with other slaves before, only with my masters. Because of the type of job I was doing. And this is so different and I … I liked it.”

“I know how you feel,” Duff said carefully. 

Izzy didn’t want them to let on that they would be trying for Goral themselves. He was still waiting for the next attempt at backstabbing from Aino and didn’t want to give her more of a handle than he absolutely had to. 

“This is a good place for a slave.”

Mikah nodded.

“But being a slave still sucks in general,” he continued. “That’s the problem with it. Being free will be OK. You’ll get used to it.”

“It’s also the place,” Mikah replied. “Goral. My mistress says it’s pretty wild out there.”

“Yeah, fuck, that’s the point about it, isn’t it?” Axl replied, clearly getting a bit impatient with all the whining. “If it wasn’t wild, you wouldn’t get to be free. Really, some of us would kill to be free and never will get a chance.”

Mikah didn’t know what Axl was, but as he didn’t know either that they would be crossing the border, he probably attributed the statement to them having to stay behind. 

“You’re right,” he said, schooling his features. “I shouldn’t complain. I’m getting a chance here. And I really thought freedom was what I wanted.”

“They won’t drop you off and leave you to fight for yourself,” Duff added. At least he hoped they wouldn’t. “You’ll figure it out”

He wasn’t so sure. Izzy, he knew wasn’t either. At first, when Izzy had mentioned that he thought Mikah would have been better off staying a slave, he had thought it callous. But the more he knew Mikah, the more he had to agree. 

He liked the security that came from knowing exactly what to do, from not having to deal with the hassle of daily survival, of earning money, finding somewhere to live, or even thinking about how to structure his own day.

Goral was a lot of things, but it was unlikely that it would provide structure and security. All that was exciting to Duff and Axl was absolutely scary to Mikah. And eventually Duff had started to agree with Izzy. The true tragedy here was, that Mikah would have been a lot happier if they had just sold him to some halfway benevolent owner on Loomah. 

When Izzy returned that evening, just in time for dinner, it was with a black eye, a split lip, and a grin on his face. He wouldn’t elaborate in front of the passengers, but waited until they were back in storage room 3. 

“Ilmari’s come through,” Izzy said. “Delivery’s ready for pickup tomorrow and I got lucky on the money side, too. Meaning, we’ll be off day after tomorrow.”

“For Goral?” Axl asked, as if he didn’t dare even consider the possibility. “All of us?”

“Yes,” Izzy said. “For Goral. All of us.”

\- End of Part IV -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo. End of Part IV. 
> 
> Spoilers for Part V: we'll meet Izzy's family. And Izzy's home. And hopefully it gets clearer, why Izzy can be so ... ehm ... confusing sometimes. 
> 
> I'm still struggling with Part V, by the way, but I think I have mapped out my way through it. It only takes a machete to get forward. 
> 
> However, Part V will really be the last part.
> 
> Tomorrow I have to start working again, so we'll see how fast I can continue updating.


	39. Experimentations

Part V

They left Chomo early the next day. For once the atmosphere all about the ship was good. Izzy was content with the status of repairs, Duff was almost giddy with delight, Axl’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Slash himself was a bit torn about it all. Yes, they had their two-year-supply, but he had had long talks with Izzy about Goral and there was just no guarantee that they would be able to set up a supply chain. And then what? 

Normally Slash wasn’t a ‘then what’ person. He did what felt good and thought about consequences later, but with Axl he suddenly didn’t want to take the risk. 

He blamed it on their stay on Chomo. For the first time things hadn’t been about what felt good to him. Instead he had been busy nonstop fending off people, and had been more occupied with Axl’s wellbeing than his own fun. 

Looking back, he realized that Izzy had started to hand Axl over to him. And wasn’t it just like Izzy to step back without losing a word about it? 

So far it had always been Izzy who had dealt with all the hassle that came from taking a slave planetside. Slash had gone offboard to enjoy himself, while Izzy had kept Axl close and made sure nobody would take liberties with him. Or had prevented that Axl took liberties with other people’s physical integrity. And how did Izzy even manage that without getting into fights? Probably by ample use of his patented death glare. 

Now all this was suddenly his own task, and Slash had been surprised to find out that it was a fulltime job. He had his suspicion that this was exactly why Izzy had kept out of the whole affair during their stay at Chomo: so that he understood what he was taking on. From now on it would be a walk in the forest or a stroll along the beach, instead of a night in a bar. Yeah, that was something he hadn’t truly taken into account. 

Things wouldn’t be that different at Goral, after all. Axl would still be a slave, and one with needs they had no idea how to fulfil. While Izzy may have made the decision to step back for now, there was no doubt that he would watch. And Slash knew very well, if he was found lacking, there would be hell to pay. 

As there was nothing to do about any of that at the moment, he put his unease about running out of supplies at bay and concentrated on the problems at hand. Which was that Izzy wanted to discuss ‘stuff’ with everybody over dinner. 

When he came into the kitchen, half of the current population was already present. Duff and Axl, of course, as they had done the cooking, then Lis and Aino. The others dropped in one after one, Izzy being the last. For dramatic effect, Slash assumed. 

“Alright,” Izzy said, once everybody had food on their plate. “We need to plan how we’re going to play this. ‘cause, frankly, I’m not much of an actor and loving husband is outside my repertoire. Any ideas?”

“Keep it as close to the truth as possible,” Axl said. “You hate each other’s guts, but being out and on your own sucks even more. You’ve decided to make the best out of the situation and go home anyway.”

“Good idea,” Aino agreed between bites of food. “Looking at this ship would make everybody decide to go home.”

Slash, determined to not let Aino’s and Izzy’s squabbles spoil his appetite, just kept eating. Duff had taken advantage of their newly filled pantry and was cooking with lots of perishables. It would be close to half a year until they could touch ground anywhere, and he would enjoy this luxury for as long as it was offered. 

“Start insulting my ship, and you can try and swim to the next planet,” Izzy retorted. “But, yeah, might be our best shot. We met on Loomah. How?”

“Just how it happened,” Slash said, although he did not like to relive that specific memory. “I met Aino in a bar. You came to pick me up and were so surprised to meet your beloved ex-wife. You talked and realized how much you both missed home.”

Izzy nodded. “Sounds good. Leaves everybody else’s role. Why do all you losers keep running after me?”

“I’m your slave, Izzy, in case you have forgotten.” Duff said. “I have to ran after you. Axl, too. Slash?”

Slash shrugged. “I’m bored and always willing to try something new.”

“Jari was working with me,” Aino said. “But he doesn’t mind going home either. In fact, he’s been nagging me to go back for ages because he realized he’s made a mistake.”

“Leaves Lis and Mikah,” Izzy said and gave her a questioning look. “Why would you run after a bunch of misfits?”

“Regarding Mikah, it might make sense to transfer him back to you,” Lis said. “One more slave in a group of slaves won’t raise any questions.”

“It’s not that easy,” Izzy replied. “Property is a vague concept where we’re going. You’ve got your ship, yes, and also some general possessions. Like, you do hopefully keep your own underwear, but most everyday things are used by pretty much everybody. That means, if I want to keep others from using my slave while I don’t need him, I have to provide a reason. Like, Duff is my bed slave and that will be accepted because it gives him a somewhat privileged position. It won’t be overly strange if I keep dragging him around and get pissy if somebody touches him. And, sorry, Axl, but for the time being you will be Slash’s.”

“I’m … fuck!” Axl muttered. “That sucks.”

“I know. Better than being everybody’s slave, so deal with it.”

Axl still pulled a face and Slash thought, it was a little bit offending. Duff, after all, took the announcement in stride. 

“So, what do I want from Mikah? We need to find some type of personal service he is providing. Something that requires him to stay close to one of us. And it has to be believable. One of you gonna claim him as bed slave, you better be prepared to paw him over publicly or nobody’s gonna believe it. Oh, and can’t be Aino, or we’ll have to get hm sterilized first.”

“Awesome.” Axl buried his face in his arms. “Do we really have to?” he mumbled into his sleeve. 

“Yes,” Izzy said. “Think about Chomo. It’s gonna be a bit like that. Fuck, think about how Jari tried to molest you that one time. Then you’re coming close to what to expect.”

“I didn’t know it was such a big deal!” Jari exclaimed. “It’s not like I was trying to fuck Axl or something. I just thought he had a nice ass, and wanted to know if it feels just as nice. No slave I know would have made such a drama about it.”

“See?” Izzy said. “That’s what I mean. You’re there, you’re offering to be touched. By anybody. Unless there is a reason why you are personal property.”

Axl sat up again. “We need to practice. Slash and me, I mean.”

“I know,” Izzy replied and Slash started to feel slightly uneasy. 

“What do you mean, practice?” he asked. 

“I mean this.”

Izzy grabbed Duff by a handful of hair, pulled him over and kissed him. Deep. Wet. Noisy. Duff, surprised by the assault, struggled for a second, but gave in almost immediately. That kid was far too well conditioned, Slash thought. 

Lis looked offended, Mikah shocked, Aino rolled her eyes. Only Jari seemed at ease with the display. 

“Well done,” Izzy said and condescendingly patted his cheek.

Slash had been relieved when Izzy had stopped this slave-owner-bullshit and started to act as if Duff actually meant something to him. Now they would be back to square one. Or rather square minus ten, if this was any indication of what they could expect to witness. 

“I’m not doing that,” Axl said when they had finished. 

“Yes, you will,” Izzy said. “Which is, why you will practice. In front of us. Which brings me to part two. We have to stop acting around each other the way we do. We have some time left, but not much. We have to get used to each other. Right now, anybody can look at us and see that it’s all one huge heap of bullshit. We barely tolerate each other’s presence, we would never decide to live as one big, happy family. So, from now on: no more separation. Storage room 3 will be a storage room again. The furniture goes back into the sitting room and we will spend each future evening trying to be civil.”

This time not only Axl groaned. Duff and Jari followed suit and Slash had to swallow his own sounds of dismay. Only Mikah looked delighted by the idea. But he was the only one who actually got along with both teams. 

“Aren’t you taking this a bit far?” Aino asked. “I mean … you know.” She motioned at Duff. “We all know what you’re doing, do we have to witness it, too?”

“I think we’re not even close to taking it far enough,” Izzy said and Slash knew the tone. He was about to get nasty. “To be really convincing, I would have to drag you to my bed and actually do the deed, as distasteful as that would be.” 

He pulled a face. 

“At least during your fertile days each month. Which I should know, so make sure you write them down. But at your age the old man will suggest artificial insemination anyway. Just to be on the safe side. And because he won’t trust me. Which is something you should think about how to handle, ‘cause if I’m requested to deliver a sample, I will do it and not care about where it ends. Could lead to very unpleasant consequences.”

Now Aino was pulling a face.

“Oh, and get off birth control. They find any traces of that in your blood, and good night it is. Regarding the rest of it, meaning Duff and Axl, that’s not for your benefit. It’s for theirs. You know just as well as I do that providing personal services is the only reason I can give, to keep them from being added to the slave pool.”

There was deadly silence afterwards and Slash started to understand why Izzy had been so against this plan. Neither of them had the slightest understanding of the cultural issues they would run into. 

“We need to know more about your customs,” he said. “Really, Izzy, you can’t just drop pieces of information now and then. We need a rundown on how your people operate in general. How are the clans structured? How do you treat slaves? Or outsiders? Fuck, you give us more input each time we go planetside than you do now.”

Izzy sighed. “How much time do you have?” 

“As much as it takes.”

“OK. Slave rules are pretty lax compared to what you know. Be respectful, get out of people’s way, speak only when spoken to, that shit stands, but none of this impractical every day shit, like run into a lamppost because you are not allowed to look anywhere but your feet. Whatever I allow you to do, you can do, like, call me by my name, eat in my presence, use fucking furniture. Maybe you can compare it to class zero citizens on Pitraria, so Duff should be fine. Mikah, too. Axl?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will behave,” Axl muttered. 

But that was easier said than done, Slash knew. Axl never had the intention to misbehave, it just happened. And it would happen more often and in a far heavier way if he was stressed out. And they would all be stressed out pretty much nonstop once they had joined Izzy’s clan. 

“I have an idea,” Lis suddenly said. “About Mikah. How about I’m writing a book? About Goral? And when my dear friend Aino decided to return home to the border, I jumped at the chance to go with her. It would also mean that I can ask nosy questions. I worked for a news board before I married. I know how to conduct interviews. It would appear genuine. And as Mikah is my slave, and I’m not one of the family, maybe they’ll make an exception? It’s not so unusual within my circles to have a personal assistant who follows you around.”

Izzy frowned, then looked at Aino. 

She shrugged. “Could work. Especially as nobody will be overly interested in Lis.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s your family, not mine. Will they buy it?”

“I have no idea if they will buy any of this,” Izzy said. “My only hope is that they don’t realize we might have reason to even try to scam them. I mean, as long as we keep the criminal past of some people here from becoming public knowledge, what would we even want at Goral? Neither of us is exactly known as a passionate defender of slave emancipation. We have no reason to cross the border. It’s not exactly paradise over there. But if we are not convincing, then they’ll start to ask questions. Which we have to avoid.”

Aino sighed. “You’re right,” she finally said, as if admitting it cost her dearly.

Izzy stood up. He hadn’t eaten much, Slash noticed.

“Think about it. I mean it. All of you. Think about how we can put all these …” he gestured at the whole room, “… animosities aside. Slash, you’ve got a moment?”

He motioned towards the door and Slash followed him to his cabin. 

“How far are you with Axl?” Izzy asked as soon as the door had closed behind them. 

“How far…”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Do I really have to spell it out? Have you fucked already?”

“Izzy!”

“You know why I’m asking.”

Yes, Slash knew. “He’s sucked me off. Once. But he wouldn’t let me reciprocate.”

“Practice,” Izzy said. “I mean it. Get him to a point where it appears believable.”

“Axl’s not Duff!” Slash exclaimed. 

“He doesn’t have to love it,” Izzy gave back. “He can even pull a face, for all I care. But he has to at least leave the expression that he’s used to it. And that includes actual sex, not only a bit of cuddling.”

“Izzy…,” Slash groaned. “Not so long ago you told me to take it slow.”

“Yeah, things just changed, didn’t they? Axl wants to go to Goral, so he has to make some sacrifices. And, I promise, he won’t like what will happen if you don’t manage to make this believable. You can’t leave it to Axl because he’ll procrastinate until it’s too late. Make a plan. Tell him what’s about to happen. You can give him choices about what he wants to try first, things like that, but don’t wait for Axl to go ahead on his own. He won’t. It’s up to you.”

On a logical level, Slash knew Izzy was right, but his subconscious was not getting it. 

“What if he doesn’t like it?”

“Make sure he does.”

As if it was that easy! 

“You won’t like the alternative ploy any better.”

“Which would be?”

“That you have a recalcitrant sex slave. One who hates your guts, but you don’t care because you get off on it. Do you even have an idea what you’ll have to do if he starts to defy you publicly?”

No, Slash thought, Izzy was absolutely right. He did not like that one bit. 

“OK,” he said, more to shut Izzy up then because he had an idea how to even start. Maybe he could do it Axl’s way and write a technical manual they would follow. 

He returned to the kitchen, where he found only Lis and Aino. The table had been cleared, dishes put away and somebody had made tea. His first reaction was to leave right away, but then he decided differently. Time to practice. They both had mugs in front of them and Slash poured himself one from the pot before he sat down. 

“I start to wonder if the plan is feasible at all,” Lis said. She gave Slash a brief look. “If you hate each other this much, how will you make it seem genuine?”

“We don’t hate each other.” Aino pushed her elbows onto the table and propped her chin up on her hands. Her face obtained a wistful expression. “We are more like … siblings, you could say. We got along great.”

Slash already knew that part, but still waited for her to continue. 

“Jeff has always been a bit of bastard, but you could have an awful lot of fun with him.” She nodded into Slash’s direction. “I suppose you know his more awesome sides, right?”

“Guess I do.” Slash agreed. 

“I don’t know,” Lis said. “I mean, the way he treats Duff. The way he is lording it over him, that’s … repulsive.”

“He’s only doing it to get a rise out of you,” Slash said. “Don’t you realize that? Really, Lis, stop making it so easy for him, then it will stop being fun. Duff knows how to take Izzy. I had my doubts at the beginning, I admit it, but Duff’s got a handle on him.”

“I’m not so sure,” Lis replied dubiously. 

“Yeah, I am.” Slash sipped his tea. “Izzy loves him. I mean, he would kill for me, he would kill for Axl, I’m sure of that. But for Duff he would die.”

“Slash is right,” Aino agreed. “He can be a major pain in the ass, but he’s no bully. Never has been. That’s one of the things I liked about Jeff. Even when we stopped being best friends.”

“How did it happen?” Slash asked. He only knew Izzy’s side of the story after all, and sometimes it was helpful to see both sides. Izzy had a tendency to leave out the important bits and pieces. 

“I can’t even say,” Aino replied. “I suppose it happened when we stopped being children. One day, when I returned from my family to spend time with his clan again, I realized that he had grown over my head. Until then I had always been an inch or so taller than him. But that wasn’t all. He had turned quiet. Wouldn’t talk anymore about what was going on in his mind. Tinkered around with this ship of his whenever he had a minute to spare. And didn’t want me along.”

“He can still be like that,” Slash said. 

Sometimes, when it had been only him and Izzy and Axl, they had spent weeks without exchanging one personal sentence. It hadn’t bothered either of them, but it brought home how much had changed over the last months. 

“I’m sure,” Aino said. “Yeah, and then the wedding came closer. We had been like brother and sister and that was fine. I would have moved in with Jeff without a second thought. But they wanted us to go from being siblings to being husband and wife when none of us was ready. And then my grandma gave me this talk, about how I had to make sure I was making myself … available, she called it. And how it would likely be uncomfortable and maybe even painful, but how I had to pretend to like it anyway, because it was my duty towards the clan, and I had to ensure that Jeff would keep trying to get me pregnant. She feared he might not feel inclined to do so if he realized how much I would hate sex with him. I mean, they treated it as a given, that I wouldn’t like it.”

Lis looked about as disturbed as Slash felt. 

“Sometimes I wonder what his version of this talk was. Because I’m sure he got one, too. Probably that he had to keep doing it, no matter how much disgust I showed. And if I try to be fair… and sometimes I do … I have to admit, I can’t blame him for running. The whole concept is so … so… outdated. If he had told me what he was planning … fuck, I would have helped him. I would even have run together with him. Or at least played along, whatever. But this … how he did it … just leaving me sitting like an unwanted parcel in front of both our families … that was humiliating.”

“What will really happen when he returns?” Slash asked. “Does he even stand a chance to be … dunno … forgiven?”

“Yes, he does,” Aino said with a sigh. “Jeff is pretty important for his clan.”

“Because of this father?” Lis asked. “You said he was in some leading position?”

“Yes, but no. Because of his genetic setup. He’s an experiment, you could say. And one hell of an investment.”

“An experiment?” Slash asked surprised. “In which way?”

“He didn’t tell, huh? Typical.” She pulled the elastic out of her ponytail and tied it new. “His clan is a lot more inbred than mine. Their fertility rate is down to about ten percent. And his parents were unable to produce a viable foetus. His mother had one miscarriage after the next, never got farther along than two or three months. Jeff is the product of a shitload of genetic engineering. They weeded out several dozen genetic mishaps when he was still an embryo. It’s a miracle that he was born at all. A very expensive miracle. None that can just be repeated for each and every child.”

“Wow,” Lis said. “So he is … unique?”

“Absolutely. But what they don’t know is if he will be able to carry the modifications forward. If so, that would mean huge progress for the coming generations and they will do it again, for more children. It’s also the reason why I am confident that they will give him another chance. He’s not only the wayward son of some high-ranking clan member, they have placed quite a bit of hope into his offspring. And he’s correct, of course. They will go for artificial insemination right away. And they will freeze about a galleon of his semen just to be on the safe side. He’d better be prepared to wank until his dick is raw.”

Slash snorted. 

“Yeah, and me ending pregnant is a veritable risk.”

“I have no words,” Lis said. “At least I’m not surprised any more that he is so … uhm.”

Fucked up, Slash thought. And it was so typical for Izzy to leave this little detail out of his whole story. Maybe this was the cause of all the empathy he had always felt for Axl. They both came out of a laboratory.

“Yeah. It’s also the reason why there was that much drama when he ran away. I mean, he’s not the first to try and escape an arranged marriage. But the whole clan had paid for his … hm… modification. They wanted to see some return on their investment.”

Yeah, and that was just like Izzy, too. As soon as somebody expected him to do something, he would do the exact opposite. 

“My family, on the other hand,” Aino continued, “is pretty low on the food scale. When I came up as perfect match for the great hope of the Isbell Clan, that was like winning the lottery. My family would have done anything to see this match through. I was handpicked for Jeff, I was groomed for Jeff, I was sent to live with his clan for months, so that I could learn what he liked and how they could turn me into the perfect wife for him. I mean, I was eleven years old and the idea was scary as fuck.”

“I can imagine,” Slash said. 

“When it turned out that we not only got along, but became friends so fast … I guess both our families breathed a huge sigh of relief. And even when Jeff started to turn obstinate, which was when he was about sixteen or seventeen, I don’t think anybody expected him to go to such extremes. I certainly didn’t. I would never have dared to do what he did. It still leaves me speechless, sometimes. And, yeah, that’s the other side of the medal. My clan now feels snubbed because they produced the perfect mate and Jeff just rejected me. Like I wasn’t good enough. What they don’t get is that nobody would have been ‘good enough’. ‘cause that’s not what it was about. It’s just that they underestimated Jeff’s personality. But that’s on them and not on him. Looking back, they should have expected it.”

They all stared into their mugs for a while. 

“You see,” Aino said after a while. “We don’t hate each other. I have always liked him and I still do. And I’m sure, he still feels a little bit of affection for me, too. He only has to get over his hurt pride because I pointed a gun at his head.”

“And will he?” Lis asked. 

“Not really,” Slash replied. “But he will do his best.”

‘Because now it isn’t about you anymore,’ he added silently in his head.

Now it was about Duff and for Duff he would get about a lot more than just hurt pride. When Izzy loved, his love knew no boundaries. Maybe that was the reason why he had always been so careful to not let it happen.


	40. A Celebration of Eternal Misery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. I figured, let's finish 40 chapters this weekend.
> 
> Also: you guys are awesome and we managed to hit 500 comments. This is now the most talked about GNR story in the archive. :) Thank you all for that!

Later that night, Slash found Axl in bed far before their usual time. They had finished the big fish book and Slash only hoped they wouldn’t end like that captain had. At least in the pig-headedness department Izzy could give the guy a run for his money. 

Axl had asked him to choose the next book, but Slash had been happy to leave it to him. This one was equally weird and old fashioned, some foster siblings and their doomed love affair in some house on some stormy hill. Slash just wished they would get over it and fuck already, but, no, they had to make everything as complicated as was humanly possible. It was one long, drawn out celebration of eternal misery. Of course, Axl loved that book. 

“That was quite the declaration, huh?” he said when they had gotten comfortable. “Izzy at his best.” 

Axl pulled a face. He had stripped down to his usual sleeping attire of shorts and t-shirt, but it gave Slash a brief jolt of pride to notice that he had already removed the bandana. He wasn’t hiding from him anymore. 

“We’ll spend the next few months watching Duff and Izzy make out in the sitting room,” Axl said. “How far do you think they will go?”

“I’d rather not think about it,” Slash muttered. 

Izzy was no exhibitionist, but that was not a result of any sense of shame. Izzy just preferred to not be the centre of attention. If he considered it necessary, Duff would find himself spread out on the kitchen table, while everybody else was still finishing dinner around them. 

“We have to think about it,” Axl said. “We have to be able to do this. And we have to find out a lot more about Izzy’s culture. He never talks about it and that’s fucking us up the ass now. I mean, this property thing? He never even mentioned it. I can deal with being Izzy’s slave, but I can’t go back to being a piece of communal equipment. I just can’t!”

“You won’t.” Slash put an arm around Axl’s shoulder. “We’ll get this done. We can start tomorrow, if you like. Or next week.” 

Who was procrastinating now?

“Today!” Axl said and Slash saw poorly concealed fright in his eyes. “Really, I can’t … I’ll… I’ll…”

“Shh.” Slash stroked his cheek before he leant in and kissed him. Axl needed a moment to respond, but then he did. “See? We’ve already put in some practice. We’ll get the rest of this shit down to perfection, OK?”

“Yeah,” Axl breathed. “What … how do we start? You should probably fuck me. Really, I mean. Don’t worry, I can take it. If Duff can, then I can, too.”

This was just what Slash had feared would happen. They would rush it and they would probably get it done somehow, but in the end, it would ruin everything. 

“How about…,” he chewed at his lip. “How about we start by touching first?”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve touched plenty,” Axl replied. 

“Yeah, but you still leave your clothes on.” 

Axl pulled back. He retreated against the headboard and hugged his knees to his chest. So that was the crux of the matter, Slash thought. The scars. Sure, there were enough on his legs and arms to leave a good impression, but the majority was on his torso. 

“I’ve seen them before,” he said softly. And, yes, they still disturbed him, but Axl didn’t have to know that. 

“They’re ugly,” Axl replied. 

Slash wondered what he could say about that. It was true after all, they were ugly. No, ugly was the wrong word. They were horrifying. Far worse than Izzy’s back, because they had been inflicted with malicious intent. 

But Axl reading weird books to him had at least one benefit: he knew what kind of words might touch him. 

“Yes, they’re ugly, because they are a reminder of what has been done to you,” he said. “But they also show what you have survived. They did all they had in their power to break you. They turned the whole fucking machinery of Tarui against you. And they failed. You’re still here, you’re still yourself and you managed what nobody has ever managed: You escaped from that place. You were born in hell and you made it out. Don’t allow them to win because they succeeded to leave some traces on your skin. Those don’t matter.”

“I was lucky,” Axl said. “’cause Izzy felt pity for me. That’s no big feat on my end.”

“And how many slaves has Izzy rescued out of desolate situations? I’m sure you’re not the only one he has seen mistreated. Still, there’s only you and Duff. Means he saw something special in you. Which should make you proud, ‘cause Izzy has a good eye for that.”

Axl snorted. “Yeah. Right. I don’t want you to feel pity for me, too.”

“I won’t.”

There was no reply, but after a moment, Axl sat up and pulled his t-shirt over his head. The damage was even worse than Slash remembered, yet he crouched nearer and laid his hands on Axl’s shoulders. 

“We should turn out the light,” Axl said, but Slash stopped him. 

“Let me see,” he said and then he started to run his fingers over each and every cut and burn and whip mark. He pushed Axl down to get better access, lifted his arms, pulled off his shorts to reach between his legs, then turned him around and continued on his back. When he was done touching them, he began anew, kissing this time, licking, caressing. When he had finished and looked up, there were tearstains on Axl’s cheeks. 

+++

When Duff joined Izzy that evening, he looked a bit subdued. 

“What’s wrong?” Izzy asked. “You were quiet all evening.”

“I start wondering if this is all worth it,” he said. 

Izzy looked up from the computer screen. Duff sat on the bed, long legs pulled up, face pensive. 

“Second thoughts?”

“Not because of myself,” Duff hurried to say. “But all of you, I mean, I didn’t think about what you all would have to do for it. It seems so … excessive.”

“It probably is,” Izzy said. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.”

He shut down the computer and joined Duff on the bed.

“In case you haven’t noticed yet, doing excessive stuff is my modus operandi.”

“If this doesn’t work out…,” Duff flopped backwards in a wild display of hair and limbs. “What will be the consequences? I can’t even … I have no idea.”

“Honestly?” Izzy put a hand onto Duff’s belly, then pushed the shirt out of the way and felt for skin. It never failed to calm him. “I have no idea either. Makes it kind of exciting, huh?”

“Did you really mean what you said? I mean … there won’t be a child, right?” He looked truly concerned about that. 

“No,” Izzy said with a chuckle. “That at least I can promise. For one simple reason. Which stays between you and me, by the way. I’m shooting blanks. I made sure of that right after I left.”

“You what?” Duff sat up. “Really? But you told Aino?”

Izzy grinned. “Yep. Let her ponder that idea for a while. But, yeah, if they check, they’ll soon find out that there’s nothing to get. And then we’ll really be in trouble because it will be obvious that this was all just some kind of ruse. Maybe I can blame radiation or something like that.”

“It’s reversible, I heard,” Duff cautioned. “They might make you do it.”

“Not the way I had it done. I made sure the stem cells were eradicated. Gone for good.”

“Why did you do it?” Duff asked. “I mean, you said you were nineteen. How could you be so sure when you were still so young?”

Izzy shrugged, and his first instinct was to make something up. But then he figured, he could just as well come clean and told Duff the story of his miracle birth. Duff was duly impressed. Izzy wished he wasn’t. It didn’t make him exactly a superhero, just meant he wouldn’t die from hereditary diseases before he hit forty. 

“And you just … destroyed everything?” he asked. 

“Yep.”

“Why?” Duff looked at him as if he had received some precious present and just smashed it. 

“When your worth is measured in your ability to procreate … Let’s say, I just never felt the need.”

“But if it’s so important …”

“It isn’t,” Izzy interrupted him. “Really. The way out is to smash the clans, not start fiddling with people’s genetic information. It’s all about power and control and to make sure nobody tries to leave the fold. I don’t want to be part of that. If they need healthy children, they have to make sure people are allowed to find their partners elsewhere. Problem solved. But then people might try to leave, live their own lives, instead of staying in some desolate corner of the galaxy where there is really nothing but open space and an overly controlling political system. You will see it when we are there. It’s … stifling and oppressive and it just squashes … everything.”

Duff still looked upset. 

“It’s no big deal, Duff. We only have to make sure they won’t find out. Which means we have to keep them from going for in vitro fertilization. But I’ll think of something. I still have a few months to come up with a solution.”

“Did you ever regret it? I mean … you can’t ever have children.”

Now Izzy really laughed. “No. Maybe when I’m sixty or so. Never got the hype when the galaxy is already as overpopulated as it is. And anyway, I got Axl, that’s like having an eternal toddler.”

“That’s a mean thing to say.” 

Izzy stifled a smile. Duff was loyal to a fault. 

“It’s a true thing to say.”

“Kind of,” Duff relented. “Doesn’t stop it from being mean.”

He was silence for a moment. 

“Did you ever regret taking on Axl?”

“Yes,” Izzy said. “If you mean, that I often wished that I had never met him. But I did meet him, and I can’t think of any alternative route that I might have taken anywhere on the whole way. So, yes, my life would have been easier without Axl, but, no, I wouldn’t decide differently. Why are you asking?”

“’cause I wonder if you’ll soon wish that you had never met me,” Duff said. “When all this is going to blow up around our ears.”

“That’s assuming that I’m only doing this for you,” Izzy said. “You may be the catalysator, Duff, but you’re not the reason.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” Izzy stretched out and motioned for Duff to lie down with him. “I’m not that much of a nice person and I would never risk my whole crew just on a whim. It’s time to leave the realm. I’ve known that even before you came onboard.”

Duff looked at him attentively, as if waiting for a story. They had talked about this before, multiple times, but maybe he needed to hear it again. 

“All the bureaucracy is getting worse and worse and I don’t even want to think about where this will lead us in ten years. Sometimes I feel like I’m spending more time on paperwork than on doing my actual job. And that doesn’t even take Axl into account. He is right, you know. Chances are high that assemblees will be banned within the next ten years, and then what? All they have to do is stop the production of the antidote shots. Problem solved. Within a year they would all be dead. We need to find a way to set up production somewhere. Yes, I keep telling them that we might just be able to smuggled over the border, but that won’t work for long. If at all. We need somebody willing to analyse what is actually in those vials and find a way to produce it illegally. That’s a lot easier at a place where nobody gives a fuck.”

Duff seemed content with the reply, if not happy. He was in a weird mood, Izzy thought Normally Duff was good natured, funny, easy to be with, but every once in a while, he got all pensive. Most of the time it was not difficult to distract him and cheer him up, but not today. 

“There’s another question,” Izzy said. “How much of an exhibitionist are you?”

“Huh?” Duff asked. “How much do I have to be?”

“Let’s say, would you be able to suck me off in front of others?”

“Sure,” Duff said. 

Izzy gave him a hard look. “Really?”

“Izzy!” Duff pushed himself up. “I survived Axl’s sex ed 101. I don’t think there’s anything left you could do to me that would leave me as much as embarrassed.”

“Could you pretend to like it?”

“What, sucking you off? I do like it in case you haven’t noticed yet.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Doing it publicly. If I ordered you to do it.”

Duff tilted his head. “Will this really happen or is this some kink of yours? After that stint at the bar, I have started to wonder.”

Izzy gave him a shove and Duff grinned up at him. If he was honest, it had felt good showing off the power he held over Duff. And he might even enjoy doing that in front of his whole fucking family. Would annoy the hell out of them. 

“It’s not like you have to blow me over dinner or something like that,” was what he finally said. “But, yeah, there are situations where sex is something that just happens and it does happen pretty publicly. Not every day, not even every week or even every month. I mean, we do behave like normal people most of the time. But … let’s say … whenever larger quantities of alcohol are involved, sex follows along. And large quantities of alcohol accompany every bigger public event. If I drag my alleged sex slave along, it would be weird if you just sat there and looked pretty.”

“If you want me to look pretty, I’ll need clothes that actually fit.”

“Not my problem,” Izzy replied. “I told you to get what you needed and you came back with a whole conglomerate of non-fitting stuff.”

“You gave me an hour!” Duff exclaimed full of exasperation. “And do you have an idea how out of it I was? Really, Izzy, looking pretty was not on my agenda that day.”

“You did look pretty that day.”

Duff blushed. “Anyway, back to the question. I’m pretty sure I can. But Axl won’t.” He pulled his forehead into a frown. “We need to desensitize him.”

“What, by fucking him in public? Slash won’t like that.”

“By exposing him first. Step by step. Until he can at least leave a believable impression of having been around sex. I mean, he’s a slave, nobody will necessarily expect him to like it.”

“You do like it!”

“I’m the exception to the rule, you know that.”

“I already told Slash to have a go at it,” Izzy said. 

“No,” Duff sat up again. “He needs a crash course. We’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Izzy asked full of suspicion. “Fuck him?”

“No!” Duff exclaimed. “As you said earlier, we all need to practice our roles. We’ll start. You and me. Totally sluttish behaviour for beginners. First lesson, tomorrow evening. Let’s give them all a set of flaming red ears.”

“You mean that, huh?” Izzy asked, not exactly sure he liked his own reaction to the idea. Because just thinking about it made his dick twitch. 

“Oh yes,” Duff said, his eyes alight with excitement. And once again Izzy decided that he really had to ask him about those times he had not worked the stage in a strip club.

+++

In the end, Axl found out, alcohol was the solution to most of their problems. After half a bottle of high-proof liquor, even the most obnoxious people became tolerable. Suddenly watching inane movies with a bunch of idiots he hated, was almost funny. 

Tonight, it was some other piece of crap that was devoid of any plot and only served one purpose: so that everybody in the overfilled room had somewhere to stare, while Izzy and Duff were delivering the real entertainment. 

Duff, it turned out, lost any inhibitions he might ever have possessed as soon as he had been dosed sufficiently. It became plain obvious, why indecent exposure with a non-suitable person had led to his downfall. Axl wondered why Izzy and Duff even thought they had to practice. Probably just to rub it in that they were so much better at playing the part than anybody else. 

But Axl had to admit, he himself got a lot more relaxed, too, just by watching them. At first, he had been OK with a bit of snuggling in public. Slash was warm and comfortable after all, and when his mind was a bit fuzzy from too much brandy, it felt good to crawl into his embrace. 

Eventually they moved on to kissing. That was not as easy. He was convinced that everybody was watching them. Every-fucking-body. And they would compare their measly performance to Duff’s obscene display of … fuck, call it was it was: skill.

And Axl knew it was skill, because right after Izzy had dropped the bomb on them, he had started his research. 

Maybe he should try some of Duff’s moves, like, straddling Slash’s lap and move his hips like a bitch in heat while sucking at his lips as if they were edible. Or slide down between his thighs and nuzzle his dick through his pants. Or … no. No way would he do what Duff was doing right now. 

For a moment even Mikah forgot that he was not supposed to stare at free people and did just that: stare, open mouthed, eyes huge with disbelief. 

Duff was kneeling between Izzy’s knees and was opening up his fly with his fucking teeth! He had already pulled down the zipper and now he struggled with the button. Axl stopped his own exercises and watched, just to see if he managed. 

Aino observed the scene with a certain amusement while Lis pretended deep interest in the cacophony of exploding space ships on the screen. 

Opening a button with one’s teeth didn’t seem to be that easy, but once he had added his tongue to the working equipment, Duff was successful. For a moment Izzy’s hands blocked Axl’s view. He had wrapped them around Duff’s head, running his fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. Then he shifted again, and Axl saw Izzy’s dick, hard and upright and then most of it was gone. Down Duff’s throat. 

It was humiliating to watch. How did he do that? Axl himself never managed more than maybe the first three inches and that was already a generous estimation. Somehow, whenever he tried to take Slash’s stupid dick any deeper, his gag reflex got in the way. And Slash always told him to take it slow. Never would he do what Izzy was currently doing.

“You can take more,” the bastard said, voice deep and a little rougher than usual, and then he placed one hand on the back of Duff’s head and pulled him down, until he had swallowed him to the hilt.

He definitely had to do some more research. Maybe there was some type of technique he could practice. With some type of substitute. He made a mental catalogue of dick shaped things he would be willing to stuff into his mouth in order to hone his skills and didn’t come up with much. 

“Want me to do that?” he suddenly heard Slash’s voice whisper in his ear. “Suck you down like that?”

Axl felt his dick grow hard at the suggestion, which wasn’t helpful at all. Slash didn’t seem to get it. This was not about them and moving on with whatever weird relationship-like thing they had started. This was about mastering a performance they would or would not have to present sooner or later to an audience. Hopefully not. Because for this performance, he, Axl, had to swallow Slash’s dick and not the other way round and so far, he wouldn’t be able to deliver anything that would convince even the most benevolent audience. 

“Do you like the idea?”

Slash’s hand was now on his cock, so he should know that he liked the idea, but if he was honest, it was only the idea. It was easier for him to touch Slash’s dick than being touched. Oh yes, the image of Slash doing what Duff was doing was giving him all types of tingly feelings, but he knew, when they were back in their cabin and tried to put the plan into motion, he would be all stuck up again. Maybe he had to just stop thinking and get over himself. 

Duff was definitely not thinking too much. His head was bopping up and down while Izzy looked utterly content. He was slouched into the armchair … and why did he get the armchair while the rest of them was squeezed together on the two couches … , legs spread, lids fluttering close and open again every few seconds. 

He tried to keep up his usual façade of eternal coolness, but every now and then he slipped, and then, for a fleeting second, his face expressed so much tenderness, it was almost painful to watch. Of course he corrected himself immediately, he was Izzy after all, and then his grip on Duff’s head turned more forceful. He pulled at his hair or urged him down just a bit more, to make up for the slip. 

Axl felt a pang of jealousy. Izzy never looked at him that way, as if he meant the world to him. And he probably couldn’t expect it because he would never be able to deliver blowjobs like Duff, not if he practiced for the rest of his life. 

Duff didn’t seem to mind the rough treatment. He just adapted and went with it until Izzy’s grip loosened again and gave him more room. Then, all of a sudden, Izzy’s fingers tightened in his hair, he pulled him fully down on himself and wouldn’t let go anymore. 

Axl almost jumped up, for Duff didn’t seem to be just as chill with the whole thing anymore. His body tensed, he tried to pull back and couldn’t. He was clearly past his limit. It hardly lasted more than a few seconds though, then Izzy’s face contorted before it turned into an expression of pure bliss. His hands went lax and Duff sat back on his haunches and looked up. 

“Good boy,” Izzy said with a patronizing smirk, before he bent forward and kissed cum off Duff’s mouth. 

Duff smiled as if being patted on the head for delivering the perfect blowjob was the epitome of his life goals. Izzy closed his pants and pulled Duff up into his lap. Duff was far too big for Izzy’s lap, so why didn’t it look ridiculous? Why did it actually look disgustingly sweet, when Duff moulded himself into Izzy’s body, arranging his legs around him as if he had done it a million times? Fuck, he probably had done it a million times. 

“Come on.” Axl grabbed Slash’s hand, the one that was still lying on his dick, and stood up. 

“Where to?” Slash asked, but he got no reply. 

They needed to practice more, but he couldn’t do it in front of a million people, in a room that smelled of sex and with Izzy nibbling at Duff’s jawline while he pushed a hand into his pants to jerk him off. 

“They are insane, aren’t they?” Slash asked when the door had closed behind them, but Axl wasn’t in a mood for talking. Definitely not for talking about Duff and Izzy. 

“Clothes off!” he ordered and pushed Slash down onto the bed. 

They had managed some progress in that department. Axl was able to strip in front of Slash without feeling embarrassed. 

“Come on, get a move on.” 

Slash did as requested, while Axl all but tore his own clothes off his body. He was still hard and Slash, it turned out, was too. Axl crawled on top of him, grabbed his face and kissed him. He forced his lips open with his tongue and pushed it in as deep as he could get. Kissing, he thought, was something he had gotten quite adept at. Probably better than Duff, who was far too gentle about it. Kissing had to be done with force!

“Axl!” Slash breathed when they parted again. “What the fuck …”

But Axl really wasn’t in a mood for talking. He thought about some of the videos he had watched on the system and decided to try something new. He bent down, took one of Slash’s nipples between his teeth and … no, he didn’t really bite down, but he did apply enough pressure to make Slash squeal in shock. 

After that Slash didn’t try to talk anymore. He just flopped back and surrendered to the carnage. And it was carnage. Determined to not allow Duff to outshine him, he went down on Slash’s dick. Sadly, his gag reflex got in the way again, but he was sure that he had managed another inch this time. Or maybe a half. Nevertheless, deep throating was not the one and only way to a good blowjob, Axl had learned. One could make up for it by ample use of tongue and lips and pressure and using his hand in addition to his mouth. Which he did. To Slash’s satisfaction, if the noises he made were any indication. 

Slash was not like Izzy, he did not draw out his orgasm for half an eternity and so Axl had to put in a lot less work than Duff usually had to. This time he forced himself to not pull back, but swallow. It would never be his favourite occupation, Axl decided, but he could do it without puking. That was something, he assumed. 

He sat back and gauged Slash’s reaction. He was still lying flat on his back, panting softly, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. 

“You have lost your mind,” he brought out eventually. 

“Was it good?” Axl asked. 

“Perfect,” Slash gasped. “Fucking perfect. Now let me…”

‘No,’ Axl wanted to say when Slash sat up, but then he thought, what the heck, he had to learn to tolerate this sooner or later anyway. 

They reversed their positions. Slash pushed him down and Axl tried to get comfortable. Then he added relaxing to the goals of the night, but that was even more difficult. This felt a bit like treatment, lying down and allowing somebody else to handle him. 

Slash was on top of him. He kissed him first, but then, while they were still sucking on each other’s tongue, Axl felt a hand slide down over his belly and brush over his dick. This was already more than they had ever done, but tonight would be different, he decided. It was after all just an informed decision about what he would and wouldn’t allow. 

“OK?” Slash whispered into his mouth and Axl nodded. 

It was acceptable at least, if not exactly arousing. But then, all of a sudden, the stroking turned from tolerable to actually pleasant and he grew hard. 

“Good,” Slash whispered. “Just like that.”

“Just like what?” Axl asked back. He wasn’t doing anything, just lying there and allowing Slash to touch him. 

“Just relax and give in,” Slash explained, as if it wasn’t anything, he hadn’t said a million times already. Axl had tried to just ‘relax and give in’ about just as often. It wasn’t as easy as Slash tried to make it sound. 

He had questioned Duff about how to do it, of course, and Duff always said nonsensical stuff like ‘just shut off your brain and go with the flow’. Shutting off his brain was the one thing Axl was really, really bad at. It took fucking electroshocks to shut off his brain. He tried again and concentrated on the now familiar feeling of a tongue in his mouth and the not so familiar feeling of somebody working over his nether regions. 

Slash stopped kissing him and moved downwards. Axl wished he hadn’t, but it was probably easier for him to just concentrate on one task. Something moist touched his dick and Axl realized that it was a tongue. OK. He could deal with that. Tongue in mouth, tongue on dick, where was the difference, really? But soon the tongue was followed by a whole mouth and his first impulse was to fight it off. 

But then he remembered Slash’s face and Izzy’s and, fuck, there had to be a reason why they were all so wild on having their cock sucked, and suddenly he wanted to know. 

In the end, Axl had to admit, it was really good. Maybe not the life shattering experience he had expected, but nice and comfortable. Duff’s stupid food metaphors ran through his head and while they were really stupid, they were at least partly fitting. He felt sated, somehow. Content. And for once his brain was willing to be just shut off.


	41. Blocked

It took all a bit of getting used to, but after about a month, things started to smooth out. To Izzy’s relief, they managed to put their animosities aside, not because anybody had forgiven anything, but simply because necessity forced them to. 

Eventually work took up their days again and most of the evenings even Duff was too tired to do much besides lazing about. It was a good thing, because his liver would have suffered irreparable damage if they had gone on the way they had started. 

It had worked out, at least. Axl and Slash started to behave less hesitant around each other. Touching at a minimum, came more naturally, and Axl’s eyes stopped popping out of their sockets, just because something sexual happened around him. Nobody expected him to deliver any type of performance, after all, just to act as if sex was a regular, if disliked, part of his life. 

For once Izzy was sleeping alone. Sometimes he just needed space, and then he sent Duff back to his own bed. The first time had been about a week after they had left Chomo, and it had made him feel more heartless than he had ever felt in his life. 

First, he had dragged Duff into his bed against his will, and then, when he finally wanted to stay, he pushed him right out again. Normal people wanted to spend the night with their lover after all, and he happened to have one who was equipped with an abundant emotional life. Izzy had been afraid to make him feel rejected. 

But Duff was also the most understanding person in the entire galaxy and whenever he had to sleep alone, he was back in the morning with coffee and one of those gentle smiles that made Izzy pull him right back into bed with him. 

He was just dozing off, still in the middle of a mental rundown of the to do lists for the next day, when suddenly the whole ship shook. 

Izzy was out of his bed immediately. He tried the light switch, but nothing happened. In the dim glow from the emergency strips, he found his boots and put them on while already hopping towards the door. Not bothering with anything else, he ran through the dark corridors towards the engine room. They hadn’t lost gravity yet, so he had his hopes up that whatever had happened was salvageable. 

On the way down he met Slash and when they had reached engine room 1 and the central system, Duff and Axl appeared, too, all of them looking sleep tousled and dressed in whatever they had managed to pick up on the way down. 

Quickly Izzy booted the computer terminal. At least the emergency systems all seemed to be working. 

“Propulsion is completely gone,” Slash said. “Fuck, cooling system is not working properly. We need to…” He made a quick run through every inch of cooling tubing on the computer and marked at least a dozen faulty pieces. “How the fuck could this happen?” 

Izzy ran to where the first corrupted section was indicated and checked. 

“Blocked!” he called, when he had bypassed the piece and opened the tube. “Something got into the system. How many?”

“Sixteen, so far, seventeen, eighteen, fuck, it’s getting more. We need to…”

“Get started,” Izzy yelled. “Now. Attach the whole system to a new water tank first and bypass every blockage.”

He ran for the intercom. “Aino, Jari, down here. Engine room. Now! I’ve unlocked the doors.”

They would need everybody they could get and Aino and Jari should both know how to repair blocked cooling tubes. The other three had already started and when minutes later the door opened, Izzy didn’t have to explain. He just assigned them their sections and they all screwed and hammered and rerouted. 

It took them all night. New blockages popped up while they repaired the old ones and when they had finally, finally outrun whatever was causing the problem, and the light came back on, none of them was able to believe it at first. 

“Fuck!” Slash plopped down where he stood. 

Just like Izzy he was dressed only in shorts and working boots and there were scratches and oil smears all over his body. Duff at least had managed a T-shirt in addition to underwear. Only Axl had managed to get dressed. No wonder. He would risk an explosion before he ran around naked in front of anybody.

“Do we have time for breakfast?” Duff asked from where he was sitting on the floor, running dirty hands over his face and through his hair. 

“Not really,” Izzy replied. “Gotta order room service.” 

He went to the intercom and told Mikah and Lis to provide food and lots and lots of coffee, for nobody would get any sleep within the next twelve hours. When he came back to delegate the tasks among crew and temporary crew, he noticed that Aino was staring at him in shock. Even Jari looked slightly upset. 

“What’s up?” Izzy asked. “Do I have spinach between my teeth?”

“What is spinach?” he heard Duff whisper to Axl.

“Jeff,” Aino said, voice faint, “your back.”

“Oh, that.” Izzy tried to sound nonchalant, but he cursed himself for not picking up a t-shirt at least. It probably hadn’t been really visible in the emergency light, but now, of course, it was on full display. “No big deal.”

“No big…”

“And no discussion, Aino. We’ve got a shit ton of work to do.”

When everything was under enough control to allow them a break, none of them was exactly upright anymore. 

“Shower, food, team meeting,” Izzy said, eliciting a universal groan. Going to sleep was probably a lot higher on everybody’s agenda than more discussions. “And we’ll have to sleep in shifts. So…,”

They went upstairs and when they finally assembled in the kitchen, they were all of them halfway clean and dressed. Mikah, it turned out, had made good use of the few cooking lessons he had received from Duff and had actually produced food instead of just rehydrating stuff like Izzy had expected. It was a relief because over the next weeks Duff wouldn’t get any time for cooking.

While people were chewing in silent exhaustion, Izzy ran through the tasks for the next days, fuck that, the next weeks. 

“We have to work in shifts again,” he said. “And we can’t leave the system unsupervised for more than taking a leak. Means…”

“… twelve-hour shifts,” Slash groaned. 

“Yep. Me, Aino, Axl take the first one, Slash, Duff, Jari the second.”

It made the most sense. Axl didn’t need much sleep and would be able to weather another twelve hours. He also didn’t trust Aino far enough to leave her alone with Slash. Slash was not good at multitasking. If Aino tried to get into the computer system while Slash was immersed in machine parts, he wouldn’t even notice. 

“Next problem: There’s some damage to the engine already. We can’t go more than half speed, if at all. We have to find a balance between not starving and not exploding. At least if we stick to our course. Or we make a detour. We should get her running well enough to reach the next planet in … uhm… two weeks if we are lucky.”

“But we’ll manage that?” Lis asked nervously. She probably wasn’t used to ships that were falling apart around her. 

“Yeah,” Izzy said. “Should work out. Problem is, next planet is Tarui.”

He looked over to Axl, who was turning white as a sheet. 

“Obviously, neither Duff nor Axl will leave the ship, but … yeah. It’s Tarui.”

“What is the problem with Tarui?” Lis asked. “I mean, I know what it is, of course, but…”

This time everybody looked at her as if she had lost her mind. 

In the end Izzy closed the door behind their passengers. He would have liked to get out a bottle of Pitrarian brandy, but the situation was too critical to get drunk. 

“I know I promised you that I would never take you back to Tarui,” he said to Axl. “I just have no idea how to avoid it.”

“It had to happen like this, I suppose,” Axl replied. 

Duff had made about a galleon of tea and he was holding on to his mug as if it was a lifeline. 

“What … what will happen?” Duff asked. “I mean, if we just stay on board…”

Izzy scratched his head. “Just like everywhere I have to present you for inspection. And on Tarui that’s already the first circle of hell. I’ll have to chain you to the wall. Hands and feet, both. Naked.”

“What for?” Duff asked. “I mean … “

“Humiliation,” Axl said. “Making sure you know right from the beginning that you’re no sentient being. You’re just a piece of equipment they can use in any way they want. It’s all about keeping you small.”

“But we’re not even going onto the planet!” Duff exclaimed. 

“Yeah, but it’s always good if you start by being properly intimidated right away.”

“Yep,” Izzy agreed. “And they’ll not be nice about it either. They won’t give you the slightest bit of leeway. Just respectful won’t be enough. They’ll expect you to be on your belly. It’s not like Loomah. If they decide to break your nose, there’s nothing I can do about it. If I even try to do something about it, they’ll break more. And if they find any heavier fault with your conduct, they will expect me to whip you right away. Which I will do because it will be the only way to get you out of it.”

“Do you still have the whip?” Axl asked. 

“It’s gotta be somewhere.”

“You’ve got a whip?” Slash exclaimed. 

“Got one together with Axl,” Izzy said. “They asked me if I had one and when I said no, I had to buy one. ‘cause, as you might remember, the collar didn’t work reliably on Axl. They said I could not run around on their beautiful planet between all the little children and fluffy animals without making sure he was all properly secured and subdued. And, so they claimed, flicking a whip was enough to make him at least think twice about acting up. That thing cost more than Axl. I don’t think it ever made it past the hatch room, so I guess it’s still there. We have to look and find it. We …”

“Izzy!” Slash interrupted him. “You can’t mean that.”

“Listen,” Izzy said with a sigh. “I don’t expect to need it because I’m sure neither Duff nor Axl will risk a whipping. But I will do whatever … and I mean that … whatever it takes to make sure the officials consider me to be a responsible, conscientious slave owner and dutiful member of our glorious society.”

Slash still looked outraged, which showed once more what kind of naïve summer child he was. Why did he think they had stopped the lucrative business of delivering to Tarui? Because they were suddenly swimming in money? 

“Can they … dunno… confiscate us?” Duff asked. 

“If they can make a valid case that I am unable to control you properly, they could even do that.”

“Fuck,” Slash muttered. “We could try for the next planet, you know. If we’re really lucky and if we …”

“Yeah,” Izzy said. “We could. I made some calculations. To do this on the safe side, it would take us about a year and three months. Duff can we feed this horde of people until then?”

Duff shook his head. “I mean, yeah, we might be able to stretch the food, if we got down to one meal per day, but water will be a problem. Not only for us, for the ship. We lost too much during the repairs. I had a look at the supply level."

Izzy had, too, but he was still surprised that Duff had noticed. He was getting a good feeling for the needs of the ship. 

"Spilled fucking everywhere.," he continued. "I mean, sure, we could start drinking recycled wastewater and we could try to ...”

“Give it up, Duff,” Axl said. “We all know it’s too risky.” 

“I’m sorry,” Izzy said. “Really. But I have to ask you to do this for me.”

“It’s not for you,” Duff protested and Izzy gave him a half-hearted smile. “I mean, you didn’t sabotage the freaking water tank.”

No, he hadn’t, but he hadn’t noticed either that the recycler was not working as it should and that debris had accumulated in the tank. Or that the electronic warning system hadn’t picked up once the filter to the cooling system had gotten overused and ruptured. Or any of the other dozens of little problems that had led to this one big disaster. He should have. It was his fucking job to notice shit like that. If he couldn’t keep his crew safe, then what use did he have? 

“It’s OK,” Axl said. “I guess we’ll survive. We’ll be all beaten down and lick your boots and won’t give them reason to give you trouble.”

“The only thing I can offer you is to drug you a bit,” Izzy said. “So that you’ll feel more at ease during the whole … ordeal.”

“No,” Axl said, just as he’d known he would. 

Duff looked hesitant, as if he would have loved to say yes, but then shook his head, too. “Might be better if I know what I’m doing,” he said. “It will be OK. I’m sure it will.”

“Ok.” Izzy ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t as convinced, but there was nothing he could really do. “In that case, Duff, Slash, get some sleep. We have some long days ahead of us.”

+++

Working together did what watching movies together hadn’t accomplished: they grew into a team. There just wasn’t any time for passive aggression and petty insults. They had the choice between cleaning up their act or ending as just another piece of intergalactic scrap. 

Duff hadn’t been thrilled when Izzy had assigned Jari to their team, but he understood why he had done it. After a few shifts he noticed however, that while Jari might not be blessed with too much intelligence, he was a better mechanic than Duff could claim after his few months of apprenticeship. It was actually possible to learn something from him. Izzy had been right: every space gipsy knew their way around any space ship.

“I never got to buy you that drink after the race,” Jari said one day, when they were having lunch break. Twelve-hour shifts were gruelling, and they didn’t even have the time to go upstairs to eat. Instead Mikah would bring them food each day and they ate in the engine room. “That were some awesome tricks you pulled there.”

“Thanks,” Duff said. 

“Yeah, I love a good dirt race.” He grinned around his sandwich. “What I don’t get is, why were you piloting at all? You and … him.” He pointed towards Slash who was still busy at the terminal. Slash was not quite as willing to forgive Jari, but at least they were down to careful neutrality. 

Duff shrugged. “There was some guy Izzy knew and his pilot had been hurt. So I jumped in. It was fun.”

Jari nodded, content with the reply. They talked a bit more about dirt racing and to Duff’s surprise, they both made an effort to be nice. No condescending remarks about slaves, no lewd suggestions, nothing. 

“Will you go to Goral, too?” Duff asked eventually. “Or will you stay with your family?”

“Not sure yet,” Jari replied. “To be honest, I liked my life the way it was. But seeing my family again, that will be nice, too. I don’t really care about Goral. It’s Aino’s plan, not mine.”

“Then why do you think about going with her?” 

Jari gave him a clueless look, as if the idea that he could make his own decision hadn’t even occurred to him. 

“Right.” Duff brushed crumbs off his pants. “Back to work, I guess. Slash is giving us the evil eye.”

“I’m sorry,” Jari suddenly said. 

“Huh? What for?”

“For … at the store. But you’ve got a mean left hook, dude. I didn’t even see it coming.”

Duff was unsure for a moment, but then he grinned. 

“I’m not that easy to kidnap,” he said. “So, don’t try again and we’re good. But maybe you should apologize to Axl, too.”

At that suggestion, Jari almost looked scared. 

As Izzy had given orders to not leave any part of machinery unsupervised for as much as five minutes, they couldn’t leave the engine room until their replacements were there. Axl was the first to arrive. 

“Izzy up on the bridge?” Duff asked while he wiped rust off his hands. 

They had seen each other for maybe ten minutes all in all during the last days. And that was already a generous estimation. 

Axl nodded. Since the announcement that they would go to Tarui, he had pretty much stopped speaking at all. Duff wished there was some time for them to sort things out a bit, but it was impossible to catch as much as a break. Alone time was a luxury they couldn’t afford. With their shift system, Axl go neither time with him nor with Slash, and Izzy was probably too busy to make him talk. 

Duff didn’t know when it had happened, maybe during their ill-fated first sex-talk, but he had become the person Axl confided in. Slash may be his lover, Izzy may be his mentor, but Duff was his friend and it was a position he didn’t take lightly. 

Only with twelve-hour shifts, there was no time for anything at all. Of course, their school lessons, always a good time for Axl to talk about his own thoughts, had come to a full stop, too. They didn’t even have dinner together anymore, just wolved down whatever type of food was pushed into their way. 

He only hoped that Axl wouldn’t add a sudden need for treatment to the mix. 

“Two weeks,” Duff said. “In two weeks, we’ll be laughing about all this.”

Axl didn’t look as if he believed him, but that was OK. If Duff was honest, he didn’t believe himself either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, next stop is Tarui, and I guess that should really come as a cliffhanger ;)


	42. The Road to Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have been accused of being mean ;) --> have another chapter today. 
> 
> That being said: After Chapter 44 I will likely need to take another break, for two reasons:
> 
> 1\. Every three months I have to declare taxes and that takes up all my free time (I could of course do a little bit here and there over those three months, to not have it pile up at the end. Or I could write nonsensical fics about weird people in outer space)
> 
> 2\. The whole "Izzy's family" part is still one huge clot of ...stuff. I have written lots of scenes, I know what I want to say with these scenes, they do have some kind of common thread, but that's it. There are holes and gaps galore. This time it really takes a lot of cleaning up. I have read it over and I thought ... hmph.

It was early morning when they reached Tarui. Izzy had locked Lis and Mikah into the containers they had arrived in, just to be on the safe side. He did not expect a full search of the ship, but it could happen and one did not take chances where Tarui was concerned. They had also made sure the cabins were cleaned up and didn’t leave traces of more than four free people and two slaves. 

Then he had asked his crew down to the hatch first, in order to get Duff and Axl ready without Jari and Aino present. At least they were all on better footing now. During the last weeks, Aino and Jari had pulled their weight. They had worked, hadn’t questioned his authority, and, as far as he knew, hadn’t made any attempts at doing anything behind his back. They both knew their way around ships, they knew how dire their situation had been and they had been a tremendous help. In fact, Izzy knew he wouldn’t have managed without them. 

Axl, pale as a sheet, was there first. He looked at the whip which hung clearly visibly over a hook next to the hatch. 

“Izzy?” he asked softly when the door closed behind him. “You’re sure that you’ll get me through this, right?”

Izzy looked at him and knew, this would be the first time he ever had to lie to him. 

“Yeah, Axl,” he said, without the slightest hesitation. “I am.”

It took another five minutes, and then Duff and Slash, both still dirty, returned from their shift. 

“Ok,” Izzy said when they all looked glumly at him. “Slash. I want you in that corner.” He pointed over to a place as far away from the slave docks as was possible. “No glaring, no scowling, pretend you are at ease with whatever is happening. And I mean fucking whatever. If you can’t watch anymore, look at the wall, for all I care, but there will be no, I repeat, no reason for you to step in. Got it?”

For a moment Slash looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he just nodded. After Axl had come onboard, Izzy had never returned to Tarui and as he would have never allowed Slash offboard before, he had never seen how slaves were truly treated here. Whoever thought that there was anything humane about slavery should be required to spend a couple of weeks in the mines. 

“You two.” 

Maybe he should try to appear compassionate, or something like that, but Izzy decided the matter of fact route would be better for them. They couldn’t count on pity here, so they wouldn’t get any from him either. 

“Time to strip. Clothes over there, folded up.”

They did and Izzy wondered about how differently one and the same task could be perceived depending on the circumstances. What was extremely arousing when done in his cabin, was the most unerotic action down here. Suddenly Duff didn’t look sexy anymore, just far too young for all this shit. 

“Bandana, Axl,” he added. “Sorry.”

Axl removed it and put it onto the stack of clothes. The scars on his skin seemed to stand out extra stark under the headlight, and knowing that he had taken him back to the place where they had been carved in, made it all so much worse.

“What will they say…” He pointed at his head. 

“No idea. Don’t think they will care, but even if they do, doesn’t matter. I can put whatever I want into your skull. For all it’s worth, I don’t believe Aino and Jari will notice.”

He gave them another moment and then motioned them over. 

“Duff first.” 

Duff took a deep breath and Izzy adjusted the docks to the correct height before clicking them to Duff’s shackles. 

“Axl.” 

Axl was tense when Izzy moved him into position, but he did not resist. 

“OK,” Izzy said

His nervousness was bleeding through, he noticed, and so he took a second to steady his voice. If he wasn’t able to pretend that he was cool and in control, how could he expect them to follow his lead? 

“When I say ‘go’ you two start staring at your feet. You won’t look up under any circumstances, no matter what’s happening. And I mean no matter what. Things might get ugly and you’ll still be only interested in your feet. Don’t only keep your eyes down, head bowed, too. If somebody wants to move up your head, let them, but still try to look at your feet, even if you can’t see them anymore. It will keep you from accidentally making eye contact. Any problems we’re running into, I’m the one to handle them. None of you will try to protest, none of you will say a word, no matter what happens.”

Duff, at least, nodded. 

“OK, go.” 

They both looked down, just in time when Aino and Jari joined them. 

“When will custom…,” Aino started, but then she stopped cold. 

“You two, over there, with Slash,” Izzy said, not addressing her staring. 

She caught herself fast enough and joined Slash in his corner. Jari, however, was not as quick, neither to walk on nor to school his features. He looked aghast, as if he had expected a petting zoo and entered a slaughterhouse instead. 

“Over there!” Izzy repeated, which finally made him move. 

The last thing Axl needed was people getting upset over his scars. 

It took another half hour before custom sent somebody over, enough for Duff and Axl to get uncomfortable in their position. The two officers, one male, one female, carried not only firearms, and the typical slave overseer batons, but also electric prods. It was just what Izzy had expected, but he noticed Duff shudder when he caught a glimpse of them. They were very popular in slave camps when larger groups of slaves were herded from their kennels to their designated working space. Axl would definitely be familiar with them, and Duff probably, too. 

“Purpose of visit?” one of the men asked, while the woman scanned his papers. 

“Technological breakdown,” Izzy replied. “We need spares. And water.”

“Hm.” The officer made. “Have you already done business with Tarui? The administration is usually willing to sell equipment to business partners, but not to strangers.”

“Yes,” Izzy said. “Several times. I don’t think it should be a problem. I’ve bought spares from the administration before.”

“Oh, good.” The officer smiled a little. “In that case, I only need verification of your data.”

He briefly checked his partner’s scan and then did the usual round of comparing it to each person’s bracelet. When it was Duff’s turn, Izzy noticed that he had started to tremble. So far, the procedures hadn’t even been different from anything he had endured on other planets, but the circumstances were set up in a way that made it all infinitely more frightening. 

To Izzy’s unease, the officer did not leave after reading his bracelet. Procedures must have changed. For a moment he was ready to do what he had ordered everybody to avoid: interfere and demand an explanation before they moved on. 

If he had no idea what was going to happen, how could he expect Duff and Axl to hold still for it? He hadn’t prepared them for anything but a quick check over. 

The officer grabbed a handful of blond hair and pulled Duff’s head up. 

“Eyes open,” he barked when Duff’s eyes almost closed in an attempt to keep looking down. 

Izzy breathed a sigh of relief. Now he knew what this was about. Iris scan. That was OK. 

So far additional means of identification had only been required, for those who wanted to leave the ship. He sent a quick prayer of thanks to whatever deity might listen that only the slaves were checked. He had no idea what an iris scan on Slash would have brought back. Probably his true identity. 

Duff did his best to comply with a command he did not understand, but now he was staring at the ceiling. As he was taller than the officer, this wasn’t helpful either. 

“Are you stupid?” he snapped and flicked the prod against Duff’s thigh. The shock was hard enough to leave superficial burn marks. Any more of this and Duff would slip into a panic attack. 

“A bit,” Izzy said and stepped up next to him. “I didn’t buy him for his brains. He’s got other qualities, but sometimes his stupidity is frustrating. Here, let me…”

He took Duff’s head out of the man’s hands and angled it in the correct direction. His eyes had closed while the trembling increased.

“Eyes open, Duff,” he ordered sternly, and Duff obeyed. 

The scan went down without complications, and Duff’s head dropped back forward again. Izzy gave him a short pat on the shoulder, hoping that Axl had understood what he had to do. 

The officer reached for his bracelet and checked the result.

“I don’t believe it!” he exclaimed. He grabbed Axl’s chin and forced his head up. 

Axl wasn’t as quick as Duff to adjust. For a second, he stared directly into the man’s face and got a fist into his belly for the slip. Out of the wink of his eye, Izzy saw Slash stiffen and Jari, of all people, made moves to interfere. At least Aino had the presence of mind to stop him with a quick grab for his arm. 

“Still not learned your place, Billy, huh?” the officer said and hit Axl again, harder this time. 

Axl made no sound, just hunched silently as far around the pain, as his shackled arms would permit. 

“Did I allow you to slouch, Billy?” The overseer seized Axl’s hair and pulled him back up. Then he grabbed him by his throat and slammed his head against the wall, digging his fingers into his jaw until Izzy was sure he would leave bruises. 

Axl’s identification number was BLLB620206 and when Izzy had bought him, they had called him Billy. But when Izzy had addressed him with that name and told him to follow, Axl had stopped, had looked him in the eye and said one word: “Axl”. 

Looking back, Izzy sometimes wondered if the reason why Axl hadn’t given him any trouble on the way back to the XXG was that he had simply accepted the self-chosen name. 

This time Axl did manage to keep his lids lowered, but it was only a question of seconds until he would fail again. He was trembling already, his face as white as the wall behind him, sweat building up all over his skin. 

Izzy knew that Duff was prone to slave terror, especially when tied up, so he hadn’t been surprised at all when it had started. He had just trusted that Duff’s way of freezing up wouldn’t lead to any problems. 

But so far Axl had never seemed similarly inclined. Now, however, all the indicators were written not only over his face but his entire body. His first episode ever, and it had to happen on Tarui of all places. Right. Where else? 

Slave terror could take different forms. Freezing up was the most prevalent one, but hysteria was another common version. One that would lead to disaster at a place like this. 

Slowly Izzy moved over to them.

“You know him?” he asked. 

“Sure, I do,” the man said. “He’s one of ours. Or rather was. Although I wouldn’t have recognized him. If I’d known there was such a pretty face hidden under all that dirt and scowling.” He chuckled. “Last time we met I was signing off his papers to get him scrapped. And the next morning I hear that some lunatic had bought him.” 

Great, just what they needed. Axl’s personal torturer. At least now he knew why Axl was losing it. If Izzy had even considered such a coincidence, he would have tried his luck with not exploding on their way to the next solar system. 

“Yeah, guess that lunatic was me,” he said. 

The officer looked at him, not hostile at least, just disbelieving.

“And you kept him all these years?” He shook his head. “We had bets running, how long it would take until we got the disassembling report. Never came, so nobody got to cash in on the pot.” 

He let go of Axl’s throat and grabbed his hair instead, pulling his head to the side this time to scan his iris. 

“What’s this?” he asked when he noticed the electrodes. 

“Helps with training,” Izzy replied. 

“Huh.” The officer touched on of them with a finger. “Never seen anything like this. Does it work?”

“Yeah.” Izzy was now standing next to Axl. 

He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it away to show the electrodes more clearly. It had the desired effect. The officer removed his own hand and looked curiously instead. 

“How does it work? Would you demonstrate it?”

Axl’s eyes moved up again, this time in full shock at the prospect of suffering through treatment under the gloating of his former tormentor. He recovered quickly, but not quickly enough, and got the electric prod rammed into his side. It stayed there until the stench of burning flesh became noticeable, and Axl’s initial whimpers melted into a tortured wail. 

Just when Izzy came to the conclusion that he had to knock the bastard unconscious, he removed the prod. Another scar added to Axl’s collection, and instead of protecting him as he had promised, he had just stood by and watched. 

“I’m just asking because I had so many difficulties with him,” the officer continued without even looking at Axl. “Whatever has brought him to heel, it must be short of a miracle cure.”

Izzy pulled Axl’s head towards himself until his forehead was resting on his shoulder. He felt his breath hot and uneven against his neck while he did his best to make his touch appear possessive instead of comforting. 

“I don’t think I have enough time for that. We were close to being blown up, so …lots of work, you know. It’s a lengthy procedure and I can’t even explain it properly. Had it installed on Erudino. You need to contact them about it. Let’s say, he has learned that actions have consequences. Good or bad ones. He just eventually understood that I have his best interests at heart and that following orders can actually be … enjoyable.” 

He tried for a dirty smirk and when he saw the lightbulb flare up on the officer’s face, he knew that he had successfully removed his interest from the electrodes to more basic things. 

“No!” he exclaimed. “Really? All it took was a dick up his ass?”

Izzy didn’t reply, just kept petting Axl’s hair and tried to look exactly like the asshole he pretended to be. 

“But aren’t you… dunno … disgusted? I mean, you have him,” he motioned at Duff, whose face wasn’t even visible under all the hair hanging around him. “He’s really a pretty one.”

“I like variety,” Izzy said. “And they’re a good team if you know what I mean.”

The officer did know what he meant and laughed wholeheartedly. 

“Our dear Billy, all well trained and obedient. You have no idea what I tried to get him like this. When I was still working as overseer downstairs. In the mines.”

Izzy did have an idea, but of course, he didn’t say so. 

“Found your match, huh Billy?” 

He took a handful of hair and pulled Axl’s head upwards once more. Axl’s eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted as he gasped softly with each breath. Izzy just hoped that he had completely checked out. It was the best thing he could do at the moment. 

“Finally, you are where you were always meant to be. Ass up, on your belly, it seems. Could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you had accepted it from the beginning.”

He petted Axl’s cheek and let him go. 

“If you ever need a job, Captain, I’m sure Tarui will be happy to offer you one. Nobody got him under control. We really thought he was untrainable.”

Izzy tried for another sardonic grin but wasn’t sure he managed. It took all his willpower to stay calm. Adding the pretense of being OK with what was just going down, brought him to his limit. 

He didn’t believe that Axl would stay this submissive for much longer either, and therefore really, really hoped that the comparison of training methods wouldn’t go into any more detail. 

He was lucky and the inspection was finally wrapped up. Izzy closed the hatch and released Duff and Axl out of their restraints. 

“Get dressed,” he said, when neither of them moved. 

Duff recovered first, while Axl looked still dazed. He reached for his clothes, and when he was done, handed Axl his. It took a few nudges, but then Axl dressed, too. 

“Go up and don’t leave the domestic corridor under any circumstances. As long as we are here, I don’t even want you in the engine room. Consider yourself on vacation, or something, do whatever you want, but don’t show your faces downstairs.”

“Do you think there will be another inspection?” he asked nervously, still a bit pale, but getting back onto his feet. Duff always bounced back fast. 

“Unlikely,” Izzy said. “But Tarui is a bit special. They don’t sell spares to passing strangers, they are only willing to help out their suppliers with necessary repairs. Means, they might want to check if what I claim is true. Especially as it’s been years since I’ve last delivered to them. I just hope they still keep me on their positive list. So, upstairs. Catch up on lost sleep, drink tea, watch movies, I don’t care. Just stay out of the way.”

Duff nodded and then he took Axl’s arm and pulled him out of the room.

Slash was leaning against the wall, looking as sick as Izzy felt, but he made no moves to follow. Good, Izzy thought. Slash was the wrong person for the situation. He himself wasn’t the right one either. Duff might be able to handle it, simply because he had made similar experiences. 

“I didn’t know you got Axl from Tarui,” Aino said. 

“Does it make a difference?” Izzy asked back. 

He looked over to Jari, who latest now would have gotten that Axl was not a natural. 

“Give him any shit about his origin…,” he started, but Jari only shook his head. Strangely enough, he still looked kind of sickened. 

“Right,” Izzy muttered. “Time for a visit to the administration and, wow, am I looking forward to that.”

“I’ll come with you,” Slash said. 

“No, you won’t,” Izzy replied. “If they find out about your warrant, you’re toast. No chance for me to get you out of it. On the contrary, we’ll all be down with you. The ship will be confiscated, Duff and Axl will end in the mines, and we will all join them soon after. You’ll stay on board.”

“Listen, chief, I really need to see what …”

“No, you don’t!” Izzy cut him short. “They won’t stick to bracelet checks if you set foot on the planet. They’ll do face recognition. And iris scan. And they’ll find out who you are. This is fucking Tarui and they are efficient to a fault. You’re not risking my whole crew just because you think you have to work through some personal issues.”

So far Izzy had always had the feeling that Slash preferred to keep the knowledge about Axl’s previous life in some corner of his mind that was always a bit out of his reach. Having Axl and his torturer suddenly in the same room might have rammed home what he probably had avoided thinking about in too much detail. 

And now he wanted to take a stroll through Axl’s childhood trauma. The motive was understandable, but apart from the obvious risks, it would effectively abort any chances at a relationship they might ever have. 

“But...,” Slash started again. 

“If Axl wants you to know, then he will tell you,” Izzy said. “And you should respect that.”

The only person Axl ever talked to about his past, was Duff. His fellow slave. The one who would understand without feeling pity. At least not too much. Izzy just knew because he had seen it live and in technicolour, not because he and Axl had lengthy chats about his past. 

“I’ll come along,” Aino suddenly said. “I can stay and arrange logistics.”

Izzy hesitated, but then he nodded. It would help and mean that he could return at once instead of discussing deliveries. 

Slash looked as if he wanted to make another attempt at arguing, but then he relented. 

Izzy took the whip off the hook, carried it upstairs, and tossed it into the waste recycler. It would get tangled, garbage would spill everywhere and they would spend half a day on repairing that fucker. And he would do it himself. Afterward, he would smell like waste, too, but that was fitting, given the place they were at. He should have done this years ago. 

Twenty minutes later they had boarded a shuttle. The administration was not located at the port but at the main mining site of the planet. It was blessedly empty. After they had found a seat Izzy pulled off the mask he had been wearing since leaving the ship. Aino did the same. The atmosphere on Tarui was toxic and while the populated areas were all equipped with an artificial atmosphere, it was considered uneconomic to put up a dome over the whole planet. 

At first, they both kept silent. Izzy had seen Tarui before and while he had never liked it, he had at least been able to handle it without letting the place get to him. Not anymore, he realized. Just being out here, seeing the slave camps out in the wasteland was bad enough, but when he spotted the huge factory complex that produced artificials of all denominations, he felt positively nauseous. All he wanted was return to his ship and leave. Instead, he had to move on to the heart of darkness. 

“Slash was right,” Aino suddenly said. 

“What?” Izzy looked up, not unhappy that she had torn him out of his musings. If she gave him a reason to be angry at her, he wouldn’t complain. Anything to redirect his current line of thinking. 

“When he said that you had changed. You have.”

Izzy snorted. “Grown some grey hair, you mean?”

She didn’t react to his jibe. “At first I thought you were still the same stubborn, self-centred bastard you’ve always been.”

“What, because I left you sitting alone in your wedding bed? I’m sure you managed to lose your precious virginity without my help.” 

“I lost my precious virginity before our big day, don’t worry,” Aino replied. “And, no, that’s not what I mean. You’ve always been pretty egoistical, Jeff. Didn’t keep me from liking you. A lot, actually. But you were. Self-centred.”

Izzy shrugged. “I never pretended otherwise.”

“I have to give you that, I guess. But you’re not anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Now you’re just stubborn. And a bastard.”

“Any purpose behind all that talking?” Izzy asked, already a little tired by the conversation. 

“What I’m saying is: I thought I got off lucky. That, as cool as you were as a friend, you’d make a horrible husband. Leave alone father.”

“If we’d even gotten that far,” Izzy interrupted her. 

“Useless to speculate. But now? You take good care of your family. Like a lion mother.”

Now Izzy did laugh. “Ask Axl, he thinks differently.”

“Axl knows very well what he’s got in you. I'm surprised you can't see that. He just needs somebody to rub against and you’re the perfect option for that. Was he really due for scrapping?”

“Are you surprised?” 

“Yes. Because to bring up enough defiance to manage that he must have gone through …,” she faltered. 

“You’ve just seen his scars,” Izzy said, although he thought he should shut her off and tell her to mind her own business. “Where do you think they’re coming from?”

“I start to understand what you’re seeing in him,” Aino said. “I didn’t get it at the beginning. An assemblee. I mean they are, … yeah.”

“Recycled waste,” Izzy said, “You can say it aloud.”

“I do get it now,” she added, not rejecting his statement. It was what people thought about Axl’s class. “He’s exactly your type.”

“In which way?” Izzy asked back. He didn’t think ‘total lunatic’ was his type. But maybe she just thought he was garbage, too. 

“He’s unique. And probably just as stubborn as you are. He might just as well be the only assemblee to ever have made it out of Tarui. But that’s not the point.”

“Then come to the point,” Izzy said, feeling a migraine built behind his eyes. 

“Point is, you didn’t even deny that you consider them your family. So, I was right. You’ve changed. You’ve started to care for other people.”

She looked at him with an amused expression, but Izzy only shrugged it off and resumed staring into the wasteland. He hadn’t been as self-centred as she liked to describe him. Not by general standards. But their traditions had demanded that he gave up all his dreams and his entire personality right with them. It was not only expected, it was required that he would forgo any type of individuality for the good of the clan. 

Maybe others were as selfless, but Izzy had never been.


	43. Braiding Hair II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is total fan service. So those of you, who demanded a hair braiding scene, better still be reading here, because now you'll get one.

As soon, as Duff let go of Axl’s arm, he was off. Hiding in his room, probably. But Duff had understood Izzy’s instructions just as they were meant, that he should spend his ‘vacation’ with Axl, making sure he didn’t get a chance to retreat into himself. 

He gave him about half an hour though, during which he prepared tea, collected snacks, and got over his own episode of slave terror. He should probably also provide food for Lis and Mikah if he was already working on it. They wouldn’t be able to leave their hiding place for as long as they were docked on Tarui, and that might be some days. 

On the other hand, Izzy had ordered him to remain within the domestic section, so a trip to the storage room was out of the question. Somebody else had to take care of it, it seemed. Not that he was crying. Sometimes he got the feeling he was responsible for pretty much everybody’s wellbeing. 

“Go away!” Axl yelled when Duff knocked at the door. 

“Can’t!” Duff yelled back. They could as well use the intercom, but sometimes yelling just felt better. “Tea’s getting cold!”

“What type of fucking reason is that?” came Axl’s voice. And then the door opened.

Duff didn’t wait for permission to come in. He just sauntered past Axl and put everything onto the nightstand. 

“Did you raid the fucking pantry?” Axl asked. “Izzy will get an aneurysm.”

“He’s not here,” Duff said. “And he said we should have a vacation. Vacation means food.”

At least he thought it should mean food. He had never had a vacation in his entire life, and Axl probably hadn’t either. 

Axl snorted, but he looked through the offerings and picked out a bag of instafruit. They settled on the bed like they did whenever they had some free time together, and Duff realized, how seldom that had been the case lately. 

“Where are the elastics?” Axl asked, pretending to search the bag again. 

“The what?” Duff asked back. 

“Elastics. Didn’t you want to braid hair? You said so last time.”

Duff grinned. If Axl was still able to make jokes, he was not slipping into suicidal mode yet. 

“Want me to get some?” 

Axl stared back, his gaze hard and daring. “Yeah,” he said. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

Duff lifted his chin an inch. “If I get up and leave this room to fetch elastics, I will braid your fucking hair. And you’ll leave the braids in for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Likewise!” Axl replied. 

“OK!” Duff said, not getting up yet. “Last chance.”

Axl didn’t waver. “I’ve been through far worse than braided hair.”

“Me too!” Duff replied, refusing to back down. 

Fuck, he would really have to put his money where his mouth was, and so he stood up and went into the kitchen for a package of elastics. Slash stood at the counter as if somebody had forgotten him there. 

“Axl?” he asked. “Izzy said I should give him space, but…,”

“It’s probably for the best,” Duff replied. “Let me talk to him first, OK? I think I know what’s bothering him.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to do that?”

Duff felt pity for him, but sometimes he got the feeling that, budding relationship or not, Slash and Axl were living on different planets. 

“Unless you have spent part of your past in some sort of slave camp, no.”

Slash’s face fell even more. 

“I’m sorry,” Duff said. “Really. But this is one of those ‘takes one to know one situations’. I can’t really talk with Izzy about this shit either. It has nothing to do with rejection.”

“But …. Yeah. Right,” Slash sounded bitter, and while Duff got it and wished he could explain in more detail, he couldn’t be in two places at the same time. “I guess I have a lot of work anyway. And as Izzy has pulled you out for the time being, that leaves only me.” 

“See you for dinner then,” Duff said and picked up the box of elastics. 

“What are you doing with those?” Slash asked. 

“Wouldn’t you want to know, huh?” Duff grinned and winked, and returned to Axl’s cabin. 

“Here!” He tossed the box onto the bed. “Take the bandana off.”

That did produce a slight hesitation, but Axl was not one to back down easily. 

“We also need a brush,” Duff said. 

Axl fetched one from his bathroom and tossed it next to the elastics. 

“Do you even know how to braid hair?”

“Do you have an idea of how many little sisters I have?” Duff asked back. He could braid hair with the best of them!

“Then fucking start!”

Axl pulled the bandana off and sat down on the bed. 

“You’ve got to turn around,” Duff demanded, wondering how exactly he had gotten into this newest complication. 

He picked up the brush and reached for the strands that fell over Axl’s back. They were soft in his hand, far less substance than his own, but very smooth and when he ran the brush through them, they got even silkier. 

“How many braids do you want?” he asked. “I mean, I can just do pigtails or lots of smaller ones.” 

He didn’t mention that he was even able to do some fancier hairstyles because little sisters could be really demanding that way. There hadn’t been many nice things in their lives, and fancy braids didn’t cost anything. 

“Make the small ones,” Axl said. “Like that we’re not done in five minutes.”

“OK.” He collected the hair in a way that would cover the electrodes even without the bandana and started braiding. 

“I’ve made a total ass out of myself,” Axl said after a while. 

“When?” Duff asked back. 

Axl made a movement that probably meant he was rolling his eyes, but Duff was not able to see it from behind. 

“Downstairs. During inspection.”

“The only thing that kept me from peeing my pants was that I wasn’t wearing any,” Duff said. “And they hardly took any notice of me. Honed in right on you, that asshole.”

“He knew me. From … before.”

Duff had gotten that much, of course, but by now he knew Axl. He had to work through something first and that could take time. But given enough time, and if he made the braids small enough, there would be enough time, he would come to the point eventually.

“He was one of the overseers, right?”

“Yeah.”

Duff felt a short pull when Axl tried to nod. 

“The moment I heard his voice, I knew something was wrong. I hadn’t recognized him yet. I mean, I was staring at my toes, I couldn’t even see him. But that voice … I will never forget it. And then he came nearer until I could smell his fucking aftershave and then I was suddenly back in that room.”

“Punishment room?” Duff asked when Axl wouldn’t continue. 

“The whipping room, yeah. It was this small room at the front of the mine. You had to pass it on your way to work and when you came back. All smooth surfaces, so that they could flush out the blood afterward. With this huge glass window to the front. Meant that everybody could see what was going on. As a warning, you know. There was this stench in there, of sweat and blood and detergents, and I swear, this morning, I could fucking smell it. Which is impossible, of course, but I had it in my nose.”

Duff nodded. For him, it was more about touches he suddenly felt on his skin, but the smell, yeah, he knew that one, too. Antiseptic detergents, mainly, because everything had smelled like that. Sometimes he was sure he got a whiff of it, but when he tried to trace that smell, it was gone. 

“He’s the reason my shoulders are so fucked up. Used to say that a simple whipping was too kind for me. He liked to hang me from my wrists for it. There was a pulley, you know. In the whipping room. Sometimes, when he was done, he would just leave me like that. Said I was useless, except as an example for the others. So he’d leave me there and they could all look at me, on their way to the mines. Was hell on the joints.”

“I can imagine,” Duff said, doing his best to not falter in his activity. 

It was always hard to listen to Axl’s stories, as they only got more and more horrific with each new one. But if he showed how much they affected him, Axl would just break off. And right now, he needed to talk. 

“Once he hung me from my ankles. That really sucked. Did you know you can pass out just from hanging upside down?”

“No.” Duff carefully tied off another tiny braid. Axl didn’t have that much hair, if he wanted to give him enough time, he had to ration his working material. 

“Me neither. But after a while, you do.”

He fell silent, and as usual, Duff just waited for Axl to continue. 

“Anyway. I didn’t mean to start a pity party here. What I wanted to say is, I used to be able to take it. I wouldn’t back down. Not really. OK, I would give in for a while, ‘cause, really, there’s just a limit to how much you can survive, right? But I wouldn’t break down. Not like I did today. I was fucking hiding my face under Izzy’s arm.”

“It’s cause we’re not used to it anymore,” Duff said. 

Of course, He had never been subjected to treatment like that. But somehow Axl dealt better with his own horrors when Duff pretended that he had gone through something similar. 

“There was this guy. He was really sadistic. I mean, we were fucked all the time, but mostly it was bearable. They wanted to sell us after all, so they couldn’t damage us too much. And then, when I thought I had gotten a handle on it all, they sent me to him. I had no idea how painful sex could be until he worked me over. He said, if I wasn’t bleeding, he wasn’t doing his job.”

Axl nodded under his hands and Duff did his best to keep busy while talking. It wasn’t an easy memory for him. 

“He got me for a complete week. Twice per day. If he couldn’t get it up, he would use … things. I thought I wouldn’t survive it. And then, when it was over, and I was back to just regular fucking, the first few times after they were done, I said ‘thank you’. Just ‘cause they hadn’t hurt me that much.” 

Duff still felt humiliated each time he thought about it. It hadn’t even been faked, he had been so grateful, it had come all naturally. 

“Anyway, what I wanted to say is, if that asshole was suddenly coming in, without forewarning, while I was chained to the wall, I wouldn’t have taken it as well as you did. I would have fainted, I think. There, done.” 

There wasn’t any hair left for more braids and so he sat back and admired his handiwork. 

“OK,” Axl said, not even getting up to look into the mirror. “Turn around. I’ll do yours.”

Duff did and then he felt Axl’s hands his hair. He was surprisingly tender, taking time to untangle snarls and knots until the brush ran smoothly through what was usually a mess even on his best days. 

“But I could take it,” Axl said, clearly not happy with Duff’s reply. “And this was nothing. I mean, he hit me, OK, and burned me a little bit, but … oh, come on, that was a joke!”

“Yeah, but that was before we got fucking spoiled,” Duff said, really not thinking it had been a joke. In fact, he wanted to have a look at the burn and treat it but knew Axl wouldn’t let him. “Face it, you grow soft here. With all the coddling and no punishments at all. Blame it on Izzy. He who spareth the rod and all that shit.”

“Did they tell you that, too?” Axl exclaimed surprised. 

“Oh God, yes, in prison. All the time. I didn’t even know it was meant to be religion until somebody bothered to enlighten me. I just thought it was the fucking slave owner manual and wondered why it was written in such a stupid language.”

Axl laughed. 

“And,” Duff went on, because he was clearly on the right path, “I mean, caste zero citizen, here. Most of us were. Uneducated idiots, the whole lot of us. So there they were reading this shit to us, all this weird grammar and old-fashioned words, and I wondered, why don’t they write that manual in a language we can actually understand?”

Axl laughed some more, his fingers pulling at Duff’s hair. 

“When I get scared, you know,” he tried to come to the important part, “I mean when I feel like I might get a bout of slave terror, I try counting backward. From a thousand or so. You can also do skips backward, like 993, 984, and so on. Something to concentrate on. But only works before I slip, when I’m already in, it’s too late. Like today. Happened all too fast, and then I lost it.”

“You get slave terror?” Axl asked surprised. “I didn’t know.”

“Not often,” Duff said. He didn’t like to admit it. “The last real one was on the day Izzy bought me. Suddenly I couldn’t walk on. Just stood there like an idiot and was unable to move. I’m surprised he didn’t return me then. Probably didn’t have the time to go back. And I may have had one on Loomah. In that cupboard.”

“You never said.”

“No. I guess I don’t like to talk about it.” 

They fell silent. 

“I’m a bit worried what Slash will think now,” Axl said after a while. “I mean, with what Izzy said about me and how I reacted.”

“What should he think?” Duff asked back. “I’m pretty sure he was just as glad as we were when it was finally over. And Izzy didn’t really say anything that wasn’t true. It’s just that he had that asshole draw the wrong conclusions out of what he said.”

“I don’t know,” Axl replied. “He might still think I’m a pitiful excuse for a non-human being. I think I have to let him fuck me soon anyway, so maybe I can make up for this.”

“Why would you have to?” Duff asked back, not really happy with where the discussion was going. “Because of what Izzy said? That you would … You know he only said it to distract him, right? Guys like that are always distracted by sex. Was a good idea, actually.”

“No. Because it’s what you do,” Axl replied. 

“No!” Duff exclaimed. “No, it’s not what you do. You do it when you want to. If you don’t want to, then you don’t do it.”

“But…”

“But what?”

Axl’s fingers stopped for their braiding for a moment. “But you and Izzy. Do you think Izzy would want you without sex?” 

The honest answer would be ‘no’. Their relationship was firmly based on sex. 

“Izzy and me,” he started carefully. “That’s a really bad example. ‘cause we did things kind of from the back to the front.”

“But it’s working,” Axl repeated stubbornly. “And you have sex all the time.”

“Yes.” Duff grew a little desperate. “But the chances for that were less than stellar.”

“A relationship without sex is not a relationship,” Axl said. “I can’t only ever suck Slash off.”

“You did that already?” Duff asked. 

Axl nodded. 

“And did you like it?” 

“Kind of. I mean, no, not really. I liked what it did to him. How he was all …uhm… I felt like I had power. Do you feel like that, too?”

“A bit,” Duff said. He had never really thought about it. “I just like the feeling of dick in my mouth, I guess.”

“Really? I felt like I had to gag all the time.”

“Then you took it too deep. You don’t have to do that. Don’t have to swallow either, if you don’t like it. I suppose it’s a bit of an acquired taste. The first time I suddenly got a full load into my throat, I was a bit weirded out, too. But, anyway, if you suck each other off … and I do suppose it’s each other right?”

Axl nodded. 

“OK, so if you do that, and you don’t want more, then fucking don’t. There’s no need. Not ever, if you don’t want to. Or, if you think you absolutely have to do that because Slash won’t go on otherwise, then ask him if he will let you fuck him.”

“What?” Axl sputtered and Duff jumped at the sudden pull at his hair. “No. That’s not possible.”

“Why not? As you said, it’s a relationship.”

“Because …,” Axl stammered. “Because … because of what I am. I mean, he is free and I’m not only a slave, I’m … that.”

Duff turned around, not caring that Axl almost tore his hair out in the process. They needed eye contact to finish this properly. 

“Listen,” he said. “Carefully. ‘cause this is important. Slash wants a relationship with you, right?”

Axl nodded. 

“Then he doesn’t care about all the labels attached to you. And if there is the tiniest sliver of doubt about that, then put a fucking stop to it all. And do it fast, ‘casue then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Duff ran both hands through his hair but got caught short by all the braids all over his head. They felt strange, but he didn’t have time to think about them now. 

“If it is a relationship, then he won’t mind if you ask him. He may say ‘no’, that’s OK, but then he absolutely can’t request you to do it either. And even if he says ‘yes’, he still can’t request it from you. So, ask him, wait for his reaction, and then you go from there.”

“Don’t tell me you ever asked Izzy!” Axl protested. 

“Not in so many words,” Duff said. “But I did.”

“And, let me guess, he said ‘no’ and you’re still happily rolling over for him.”

Duff opened his mouth and closed it again. Izzy had said ‘no’, only later he had let him do it anyway.

“No!” Axl exclaimed, and, fuck, why was he always so fast on the uptake? “You fucked Izzy?”

“Only once,” Duff said. 

“No!” 

“Will you please talk a bit lower? Fuck, yes, but that’s not what it’s all about. Which part about: don’t take Izzy and me as an example doesn’t reach your brain? Izzy ordered me to his bed and I can’t imagine a single scenario where a relationship should start that way. So, for the love of God, stop looking at us as an example of how to do it. In fact, look at us and do everything exactly the other way round.”

“I can’t believe it. He really let you? You had your dick up his ass?”

Duff flipped backward, grabbed a pillow, and put it over his face. One of the worst things about talking to Axl about sex was the complete lack of any sort of moderation, nuance, or subtext. If there was a crass or even crasser way to put things, then Axl would employ it. Yes, he had had his dick up Izzy’s ass. 

Only it hadn’t been important. What had been important about that one moment had been the trust Izzy had put into him. Izzy never allowed himself to be vulnerable, but during that one night, he had been, trusting and vulnerable and even submissive in his hands. Duff had loved that moment and he would cherish it for the rest of his life. But there was no way Axl would get that part and Duff was not willing to dissect this one perfect moment for his benefit. 

“Let’s talk about something else,” he tried. “What’s for dinner.”

“No!” Axl exclaimed. “I want to know…”

“And I won’t tell.” Duff sat up. “That’s between Izzy and me and nobody else.”

Axl sobered. “He didn’t like it, huh? Did he give you hell about it?”

“He did like it,” Duff replied, and, fuck, why was he now talking about it when he had refused to do just that only one minute ago? “I still don’t want to talk about it. It’s private, Axl. If you know what that word means.”

Axl shrugged. “Suit yourself. Want me to finish your hair?”

Duff reached for his head and gauged the process of braid development. 

“I guess that would take ages, huh?” 

“Pretty much,” Axl said. “No idea how you did mine so fast.” He patted around on his head. “I should probably have a look.”

They both walked to the mirror and after a moment of pure shock, started to giggle at the result. If Duff was honest, he thought Axl didn’t look half bad. At least everything was somehow evenly. But his own braids were a weird conglomerate of thinner and thicker braids, unevenly divided all over his head. 

“You don’t have to leave them in for twenty-four hours,” Axl said. 

“Phh,” Duff made. “I said I would and I will. And, anyway, it’s a testament to your total lack of braiding skills.”

“And when would I even have learned that, huh? I fucking looked it up on the system, after you mentioned it.”

“You…,” Duff shook his head. Of course, he had. Axl looked everything up on the system. “Dinner,” he said. “Don’t know if Izzy’s back already, but whenever he will be, he will be pissed. I don’t think dealing with the administration of Tarui will make him happy. So what do we make?” 

“Spaghetti,” Axl said, just as he did every time, not because he liked them, but the process of wrapping them around a fork was endlessly fascinating to him. 

“Ok,” Duff said. Everybody liked spaghetti, after all. “Let’s get started.”


	44. System Failure

Izzy was not exactly feeling exalted when he returned home. He would get the parts they needed, yes, but if he was honest, it had taken quite a lot out of him. 

Right next to the administrative office was a long row of cages. Slaves that came or went were kept in there until somebody had the time to deal with them. When he had first spotted Axl, he had been sitting in one of them.

This time, the slave in there had been older, although it was difficult to say how old exactly. He had definitely appeared used up and ill and crooked. He had been lying on his side, not looking up whenever somebody passed him and Izzy had known where he was going. Slaves like that were of no use in the mines, and Tarui had no use for useless slaves. 

Izzy had looked to the other side and walked past him, but he couldn’t get the image out of his head. Slash was right. Aino was right. He was growing soft and that at a point in time where he absolutely couldn’t afford it. 

He felt a deep need to get drunk, but sadly that wasn’t a good idea. He needed to keep his wits together and if now he started to drink, he wouldn’t stop for a week. 

When he entered the domestic corridor, there was the familiar smell of Duff’s cooking. And they would be among themselves, he realized. Aino was still on Tarui, Lis and Mikah would have to remain in their containers until they had left the planet, and Jari would have to bring them food and would likely stay with them for dinner.

If only Duff had managed to pull Axl out of his funk. 

Duff, it turned out, had gone far beyond what anybody would consider dutiful service. When Izzy entered the kitchen, all he did for what felt like about half an hour, was stare. 

“What the fuck have you done?” he asked and pulled at one of the braids that somehow had sprouted out of his head. 

“I’m on vacation,” Duff replied as if that explained anything. 

“And?”

“You do crazy stuff during vacations.”

“But why…,”

He turned around when Axl joined them. There were even more braids growing out of Axl’s head than out of Duff’s. 

“Did I miss anything?” he asked. 

“Quite a lot,” Axl replied and started to set out plates. “How was Tarui?”

“Disgusting as always,” Izzy replied, which got him a smile from Axl. Good. Duff would get a cookie for this. “But they’ll help us out.”

“How long do we have to stay?” Duff asked. 

Izzy shrugged. “Three days, if all goes as planned.”

“That’s not so bad, is it?”

It wasn’t. It still was three days too much. 

“Somebody needs to repair the waste recycler,” Duff said. “I think it’s blocked. Again. And as I am not supposed to go downstairs …”

“I’ll do it,” Izzy said. “Tomorrow. Just don’t throw anything in until then.”

During dinner, they all did their best to not mention the various pink elephants in the room, among them Tarui in general, why he suddenly trusted Aino with important tasks, or the reason behind the new fashion statement fifty percent of the crew had decided to make. 

“Will you come over when you’re finished?” Izzy asked Duff, as soon as they were done eating. 

Duff nodded, without looking up from the dishwasher. It took him another half hour, but then Izzy heard the familiar knock at the door. 

“Open,” he said and to his silent despair, Duff was still wearing his stupid braids. 

“What’s the story behind these?” he asked and fingered one of them. They weren’t even nice braids, just sloppily twisted hair in irregular instances all over his head. And here he had thought Duff’s usual hairdo was a quite exotic choice. 

“You don’t want to know,” Duff flopped down onto the bed. “Really not.”

“Are you planning on keeping them?” 

Could he order Duff to get rid of the braids? Did a captain have a say in how his crew kept their hair? There had to be a reason why they were endangering the wellbeing of the ship.

“Gods, no!” Duff exclaimed. He sat up and gave Izzy a deeply wounded look. “Have you lost your mind? But I have to keep them in for twenty-four hours.”

That wasn’t too bad, Izzy decided. It did interfere with his ideas about the evening, but, OK, he would just have to suck it up. He had once told Duff he would be pretty without a nose, he sure was pretty with unfortunate hairstyles. 

“Ok,” he said with a sigh and joined Duff on the bed. “How about you strip and lie down, ‘cause I have plans for your ass.”

“What?” Duff asked. Then he lifted his hand and laid it onto Izzy’s forehead. “No fever. That leaves two possibilities. A), this place is rubbing off on you or b), you have lost your fucking mind!”

“What’s your fucking problem?” Izzy exclaimed.

“My fucking problem is…” Duff looked at him full of exasperation. “Do I really have to explain to you what the fucking problem is?”

“Not so long ago you would have just done it,” Izzy tried to defend his point. 

Was it really asked too much that he requested some stress relief after a day from hell? While Duff had been up here, having a vacation with Axl that included ludicrous activities like hair braiding and God knows what else?

“Not so long ago you still scared the shit out of me,” Duff gave back. “Really, Izzy, you’re the one who is having a fucking problem here. So come again and ask me nicely and I might consider doing it.”

Izzy sighed. Duff was probably right. Just because they constantly tumbled into bed with each other didn’t mean he should just expect it to happen. And Duff’s day had hardly been a walk in the park either.

“Duff,” he said, doing his best to be calm and nice and he should probably add a bit of seduction to the mix. “I had a really shitty day. First, I had to pretend to fuck Axl to keep him from being fried. Then I had to deal with the administration of Tarui and their endless need for bureaucracy. I’m tired. I have a major headache. So, would you please now take off your fucking clothes and get onto your belly so that I can fuck your delectable little ass?”

It didn’t leave an impression. Duff still wasn’t making any moves to undress. 

“Right,” he said instead. “Did you really think fucking me will help against all that?”

“My first idea was getting drunk, but I have to keep a clear mind, so that’s kind of plan B already.” 

“Then I suggest we move on to plan C,” Duff said drily. “Which consists of you telling me what the fuck is bothering you, ‘cause you’re leaving out quite a bit.”

“Who are you, my psychologist?” Izzy muttered.

He stretched out on the bed and contemplated the unfairness of the world. Here he had bought himself a bed slave and just because he had decided to set him free, he refused to do his duty. 

“What’s up?” Duff laid down next to him, propped up on one elbow. 

“You look ridiculous,” Izzy said. 

“I know. What happened on Tarui?”

“Nothing,” Izzy said. “And that is the fucking problem. Nothing happened at all. And I still couldn’t take it. I’ve been to Tarui at least half a dozen times already. I never liked it. But I could fucking deal with it. Today? I almost turned tail and ran.”

“I guess we all felt a bit like that, huh?” Duff said. 

“But you had a reason. You and Axl.”

“I’m sure you had, too. You only have to think about it and you’ll find it.”

Izzy didn’t have to think about it. He knew the reason. 

“I was playing nice with them,” he said. “Those are the people who did all these things to Axl. They tortured him. They almost managed to destroy him. And when they couldn’t break him, they decided to kill him. And this shit is going down there every fucking day. Which I fucking know. And I still went down and asked them with a smile to kindly help me out with this tiny little problem I’m having. I played their fucking game and I didn’t even try to change it.”

“Because you can’t,” Duff said. “Fuck, Izzy, what do you want to do? Burn down the planet?”

“You’re not getting my point.” Izzy sat up. “I’m not an abolitionist. I don’t fight for a higher cause. I never have. This shit down there? It shouldn’t even affect me. So why does it, all of a sudden, huh?”

“How should I know?” Duff replied. “And why are you suddenly all asking me these questions? I mean, you guys are aware that I’m the stupid one onboard this ship, right?”

“Jari is the stupid one. Definitely not you,” Izzy protested. “Where are you getting that idea?”

Duff rolled his eyes. “I can barely read and write, Izzy. Axl showed me a book he absolutely wanted me to read. About some big fish and an insane captain. I gave up after two pages because the words were all so fucking long and the sentences were even longer.”

“Moby Dick?” Izzy all but squeaked. “He wanted you to read Moby Dick? Has he lost his mind? How about … you start with something like …” he thought about some of the adventure books he had loved in his teenage years, “The Space Explorers or something. You know that Axl likes convoluted stuff, so really don’t go to him for literary suggestions. And don’t think he was able to read shit like that when he came on board. This has nothing to do with stupidity. You just need more practice.”

“Whatever,” Duff said. “Point is, you know the reason why you can’t close your eyes against all the misery, right? I mean … ‘cause if not then I’m really not the stupid one here.”

“I couldn’t even protect you two today!” Izzy yelled. “That … that asshole was hurting you and touching you and I stood by and fucking watched!”

“You did what you had to,” Duff gave back. “And, fuck, how do you want to protect us against the whole system? Just you and whose army, huh? I mean, what did we even do to deserve punishment? Nothing. Totally nothing at all. You told us how to behave and we did as told. Did it help? No. Not because of anything we could have done or you could have done. Because the system is flawed. There should be some sort of assurance for us, that we know, if we behave in a certain way, then we won’t get punished. But there isn’t. It can always happen and for reasons totally out of our control. Which isn’t your fault, Izzy, so don’t make it your problem.” 

“It is my problem,” Izzy retorted, and, fuck, it was. Duff should be spitting blame and accusations at him, not make excuses for his failure. “I should be able to protect you!”

“You are not and you will never be! Not even if you locked us up forever within this secure little world of the ship. ‘cause then something like the fucking engine failure happens, and we are in contact with the outside again. And then all you can do is try, but, sorry, Izzy, for them you’re just some unimportant, little space captain. One who needed their help. And do you really think in the eyes of that freaking custom guy, that Axl was yours? You heard what he said ‘one of ours’. They produced him, they tyrannized him, so why should they stop? Just because you bought him? Won’t change anything. They graciously allow you to play with their property.”

Izzy knew this. Of course, he did. It was the main reason why he had decided to get Duff out of the realm. Because it was not within his powers to keep him safe from a system that was set up to make a whole group of individuals as vulnerable as was possible. He just hadn’t expected to feel so … helpless. 

“You made sure Axl got through it,” Duff went one, and, wow, if that kid claimed to be stupid ever again, he would whack his ass for it. “Fuck, you got both of us through it, ‘cause I was so fucking scared, I was short of puking on his boots. You stayed calm and you acted and you did whatever you had to do to make sure we are now all here. We are safe, we are healthy and will leave in three days and never come back. That’s enough! Nobody expected you to brandish your laser sword and demand satisfaction for the injustice of the world. All we wanted was to survive in one piece and be gone as soon as possible and you managed that. Give yourself some fucking credit, dude! Because without you we would all be fried, not only Axl.”

Izzy looked at Duff, at his soft eyes, the ridiculous braids around his pretty face, and the hard line he had pulled his mouth into. 

“When have you turned into the one who holds us all together, huh?” he asked. 

“I wished I fucking knew,” Duff groused. “Somehow you all think you have to pour out your heart the moment I walk around the corner.”

Izzy smiled a little. 

“You still want to fuck me?” Duff asked. 

“I probably shouldn’t,” Izzy admitted with a sigh. “But it’s been such a long time. Do you know when we last fucked?”

“Sometime before the accident,” Duff replied. 

“Two weeks, three days,” Izzy said. “I didn’t count the hours, but I could if you wanted me to.”

“You’re an idiot,” Duff said instead. “Lay down. On your back, come on.”

“What…,”

“You’re right.” 

Duff pushed him down, then opened his pants, and before Izzy could protest, he was on the road to getting naked. 

“You really shouldn’t fuck me,” he went on.

He opened the buttons of Izzy’s shirt and pushed it down over his shoulders. 

“’cause you’re angry and frustrated and then you’ll get rough. Which I don’t mind now and then, but you, you will feel all guilty afterward and when you feel guilty you always push me out of your bed and decide that I’m better off without you or some shit. So, we will now circumvent all this drama and I’ll do the work here while you will lie back and relax.”

“Duff, I …” Izzy started, but Duff wasn’t having any of it. 

“Hush,” he said. “I’ll get you off. Promise. Now close your eyes and let me take your mind off this shitty day you’ve had. It’s what you bought me for, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Izzy breathed. 

“Then be a good boy and let me do my job here.” 

Duff started to take off his own clothes, but Izzy stopped him with a hand on his wrist. 

“Duff?” 

“Yes?”

“I think I love you.”

Duff chewed his lip while giving him a long, earnest look. 

“I think I know,” he said. 

+++ 

Slash was almost surprised when Axl allowed him into his room that evening. He had been prepared to bunk with Duff or rather occupy Duff’s bed in case he decided to not come home. But here they were, sitting next to each other as they always did. Axl had his screen in his lap, but he would not start reading. 

“I’m sorry,” Slash finally said. 

Izzy had told him to stay out of it, Duff had told him to stay out of it, but they were both wrong. Maybe he wasn’t the right person to deal with Axl’s problems yet, but he would never become that person if they didn’t allow him to at least try and do his best. 

“I should have defended you. Today. I just stood by and watched.”

Axl looked up. The braids were still strange to look at, but he was getting used to them. Neither Duff nor Axl had lost a word about how they had come to be, and Slash hadn’t asked any further. He played with one of them, rubbing the end between his fingers. At least he now knew why Duff had needed about a million elastics. 

“That would have made matters worse,” Axl said. “You don’t defend a slave. Not here. What Izzy did… it was the right thing. It got us out of it.”

“What …,” Slash hesitated, hearing Izzy’s warning to not push in his ear again but he had to know. He had to talk about what had happened downstairs, had to understand what had been going on in Axl’s mind. Had to know how he would be able to help if it ever happened again. “I was worried that you might go into rage. You were so pale, all of a sudden.”

“No,” Axl replied. “That wasn’t the reason.” 

“Then what…”

Axl sat up straight, put the screen away, and turned around to face him. “I would really like to fuck you.”

“You … what?” Slash asked, stunned by the sudden change of topic. 

“I’d like to fuck you,” Axl repeated.

Slash gave him a closer look. There was a stubborn streak around his mouth, his chin was a bit too high, his eyes a touch too narrow. He expected a slap down. 

“OK,” Slash said. 

Watching how Axl’s face turned from determined to totally flabbergasted, was priceless. Sometimes he was just too easy. 

“You’d let me fuck you?” he asked, clearly still expecting to be laughed at. Or worse. 

“Sure.” And he would. Why not? OK, he hadn’t done it that often, but he was by no means a blank page. He just hadn’t expected Axl to even want. He always offered sex like a chore that had to be taken care of, and Slash had been determined to wait until he truly desired it. 

“I’m a slave,” Axl said. 

“I know.” 

“I’m not even a natural.”

“Yeah, Axl, I know. Is this supposed to get us anywhere?”

“You can’t let me fuck you.”

Slash sighed. “Do you even want to fuck me or was this all just a test to find out how much of an asshole I am?” 

It’s not as if Izzy hadn’t warned him that Axl would make life difficult for him. 

“I do!” Axl exclaimed. He sounded genuine. “I just didn’t think you would let me, so I didn’t plan any further than this and now I don’t know … how to continue.”

“Axl…,” Slash began. And then he started to laugh. 

“This is not funny!” Axl snapped, but Slash just kept laughing until tears were running down his face. 

When he finally managed to calm down again, he took Axl’s face into his hands and kissed him. It wasn’t a deep kiss, just a peck on his lips. 

“What we need,” he said, “is lube. Lots of lube, because it’s been a while for me. And a free evening. If I’m informed correctly, Duff and Izzy taught you how to prepare your lover?”

“I … yeah, I guess so,” Axl stuttered. 

“Good. We all want to be out of this shithole as fast as possible, so I suppose, as soon as the spares are delivered, Izzy will make us work day and night again. Especially as you and Duff are restricted to the domestic corridor. But afterward, when all is running smoothly and we’re back to a one-shift system, I’m all yours. And I expect you to make good on that promise.”

Axl opened his mouth, but for once he seemed to be at a loss for words. Then a grin started at the corner of his lips, which slowly grew into a smile all over his face. 

Only later, when they had switched out the light and Axl had gone off to wander through the ship – or only the domestic corridor at the moment – he realized that Axl had successfully avoided talking to him about what really had been his problem that day.


	45. Contact

Three days later they were back in space, and for once Duff fully understood Izzy’s need to put a planet behind himself. 

Duff had gotten rid of his braids as soon as the twenty-four hours were over, and Axl had followed suit. With a slight exception. Discreetly tucked behind his ear, hidden almost entirely by the bandana and the rest of his hair, was one braid left. 

Being out again also meant, they were all working in the engine room once more, and to everybody’s surprise, Izzy had decided to keep their current system. Yes, they were back to one-shift days, but the teams of Slash/Duff/Jari and Izzy/Axl/Aino stayed. Lis and Mikah took over the domestic tasks. 

“Because we can’t afford any more failures,” Izzy said when Duff asked him about it. “We’re practically broke and as I’m not taking on any jobs at the moment, there won’t be money coming in. But we have a good chance to get on top of the maintenance schedule for once and avoid another disaster. And, you may have noticed, it brings us closer together. Which is what we need if we ever want to pull off this charade.”

Most of the time they just pretended that all was normal. They worked and spent the evenings together and slowly, slowly, the former passengers became part of the crew. Maybe they would never be friends, but they weren’t enemies either. Even Jari and Axl got along somehow, if only by purposefully ignoring each other. 

Duff felt as if they were passing one milestone after the next. 

He managed to read a complete book. 

No, not the big fish book, but some adventure story Izzy had given him. At first, he had felt bad about having to read books that were obviously meant for kids, but the story had been so exciting that he had soon forgotten about his shame. He had made Axl read it, too, so that they could talk about it. And Izzy smiled as if fondly remembering the storyline, when Duff mentioned certain chapters he had loved. So maybe, if one was not yet able to read books about big fish, reading books for kids wasn’t all that bad. Especially as there were more books featuring the same protagonists, and he could just dive right into the next one. 

He had another weird sex talk with Axl and had reached a point, where he almost stopped considering them to be weird at all. 

This time it took place in Duff’s cabin because Axl claimed he was unable to talk about it on the bed where it had actually happened. 

“Told you so,” Duff said when Axl expressed his wonders about it having happened at all. “Nobody gives a fuck about what you are. Really, you’re the last one on this ship who cares at all. Even Jari has gotten over it.”

Axl wrinkled his nose at that. 

“So, you managed and got Slash to put out. Congratulations?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Axl tucked at the bedspread. 

Something was not right here, so much was clear. Axl’s reaction was not that of somebody who had just had an amazing experience. 

Duff helped himself to another cookie and waited. 

“Did you like it?” he finally prompted. Or should he ask if Slash had liked it?

“I guess,” Axl said. 

Duff wondered if he needed to get the elastics out of the kitchen. He hoped not. Once was enough. 

“I don’t get what’s the big deal about it is,” Axl finally went on. “Maybe I’m doing it wrong.”

“Maybe you just don’t get off on it,” Duff said. 

In fact, it was a suspicion he had developed quite a while ago. He had once tried to bring it up with Izzy, but it became clear very fast that Izzy did not want to talk about Axl’s sex life. Whatever had taken place back on Loomah had edged some deep scars into Izzy’s soul and his way to deal with it was to pretend that it had never happened. 

Whenever Axl asked him about sex, it sounded all so very technical, as if it was something he had to get out of the way before the real thing could start. 

“Everybody gets off on it,” he said after a while. “Maybe it’s because my brain is not working properly.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your brain!” Duff exclaimed. 

Axl snorted. “Oh yes, there is.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Duff conceded. “But that’s got nothing to do with each other.”

“Why not?” Axl asked back. “Maybe all the electroshocks have destroyed something. Or maybe that part was never there. Maybe they cut it out when they put my brain in? ‘cause they thought I would never need it anyway.”

So that was indeed the problem. Axl didn’t like sex. Which complicated things immensely because Duff was reasonably sure that Slash liked sex a lot.

“What …,” he started, trying to find a solution, “what do you like? Doing with Slash, I mean?”

Axl folded his hand in his lap, probably to have something to stare it. 

“Nothing?” Duff asked, slowly getting upset. 

“What? No. I like a lot of things.”

“Then what?” 

No reply. 

“Oh, come on, Axl. I told you … everything.”

“You refuse to talk about how you fucked Izzy.”

“That’s one tiny aspect. You know everything else.”

“Mainly because you make it all public anyway,” Axl retorted. 

“it’s not like that!” Duff exclaimed. OK, it was. 

Axl gave him a look that said just the same. 

“Still. Stop avoiding the topic. What do you like?”

“The cuddling,” he said and blushed as if he had just admitted to some insane perversion. “I also like kissing, I think. But mainly … cuddling.”

“Tenderness,” Duff said. “That’s …,” not so bad, “… absolutely OK.”

It made sense. Allowing somebody to touch him in an intimate way would already be a huge thing for Axl, and probably more important than actual sex. 

Axl shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t like the rest. I mean, it’s OK. And sometimes it feels good. But… somehow … I mean, I can get off all on my own. Why isn’t that enough? Takes far less effort.”

Duff thought about it. Fuck, who was he to give sex advice to others? And why did it have to always be him? 

“What … what does Slash say?”

“He likes it,” Axl said. “I mean, he said so. And I get to … you know … afterwards, so …”

“Post-sex-cuddling,” Duff said. 

Axl nodded.

Right, he thought. Now he should probably tell Axl that he shouldn’t have to provide sex just to get tenderness, but from what he had witnessed so far, Slash was already holding back a lot. And from the way he was talking, it was not some unbearable hardship on Axl. He didn’t seem to be totally averse, just didn’t understand the effort. 

“Maybe you’re thinking too much.” he finally suggested. 

“Right.” Axl rolled his eyes. “That’s what you always say. I can’t not think, Duff. It’s just not possible.”

“I just wonder…,” Duff tried to explain, “… you said you do it yourself, right?”

“Jerk off? Sure.”

“Do you think then?” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean … when you’re jerking off, what’s going on in your head then?”

Axl blushed. No, he didn’t blush, he turned positively crimson. At least three shades redder than his hair. 

Duff grinned. “How about you think about the same shit when you have sex with Slash, huh?”

Now Axl’s eyes did that thing again, where they almost popped out of his head. 

“I should focus on making it good,” he said. 

“Stop focussing and it will be good,” Duff said lightly. 

“As if it’s that easy!” Axl snapped. 

“It is.” He took another cookie. Three in a row, when their resources were already dwindling. Duff was of the firm conviction that sex talk with Axl should result in additional payment. Especially as he was the only one even willing to do it. 

“You will work it out,” he said. “It’s like it is with reading books. Takes practice. You just haven’t worked up to big-fish-sex yet.”

Axl threw a pillow into his direction. 

If Duff was honest, he didn’t believe that it was just practice. Something did not click here. Maybe they were not compatible or maybe Izzy was right, that they were drawn to each other more by lack of alternatives. But just because a relationship started under less than stellar conditions didn’t mean, it couldn’t work out. He was a prime example of that. 

The sensible thing would have been to break up with Izzy as soon as he had been given permission to do so. That he had stayed, fuck, had begged to continue, was not exactly a sign of a sane mind. It worked out, somehow, but Izzy still had a tendency to fall back into the master-role now and then, and not in a way that was fun. He did correct himself when called out on it, but afterwards he was always in a foul mood for a while. Sometimes Duff wondered if he regretted his decision to set him free. 

Therefore, no, he wasn’t in any position to poke around in Axl’s and Slash version of a fucked-up relationship. It was their right to try for as long as they wanted. Unfortunately, it also meant that a lot more requests for sex advice would be coming his way. 

+++

It was a few months later, Duff was busy in the engine room when Izzy’s voice came suddenly out of the intercom. 

“Everybody to the bridge,” he said, his words cool and clipped, but Duff knew immediately that something was wrong. “Now!”

He cast a look at Slash, who was putting down his tool with an expression that easily matched Duff’s worry. Minutes later they were all on the bridge and stared out of the window. In the distance, visible only because the long distant sensors had picked up on it and created an image on the monitors, was … something.

“Is that a ship?” Axl asked. 

Duff wanted to shake his head. It was something huge, the surface uneven and grey. It was surrounded by tiny dots that skittered around the large object, like flies around some big animal. 

“That,” Izzy said. “Is where I was born.”

Duff swallowed. Somehow, he had thought they would have more time. In fact, this whole endeavour had seemed too fantastical to ever become real. He kind of had expected them to just fly and fly, maybe forever, and never reach their goal at all. But here they were. The border lay in front of them, but to reach it, they had to pass the dragon in its own lair. 

“I guess you can call it a ship,” Izzy said. “It does float around a bit, so you never know where exactly you will meet it. But all in all, it stays within its own territory. The small ships, that’s how we do travel.”

Nobody answered. Everybody just stood and looked glum. Maybe they were all as shocked as Duff felt. 

“Yeah,” Izzy finally said. “I guess it’s time we get into our roles. You’ve all got your script, so… no lapse now, no deviation, nothing.” 

He looked from one to the next, but when Duff had expected some kind of pep talk, he had been wrong. For once, Izzy looked just as uneasy as the rest of them. Maybe this was a number too big even for him.

+++

The XXG was detected not long after and received a request for identification. Izzy sent over his credentials and afterwards, for a long while, nothing happened at all. Axl was not sure what he had expected. Instant fire maybe or an army of those tiny ships swarming out to get them. Instead, there was just radio silence while they approached the monstrosity that was apparently Izzy’s home. 

Then, all of a sudden, something shook the whole ship. 

“Not again,” Axl groaned. 

If they had to deal with another emergency right now, he would blow this heap of scrap metal up himself. 

“That’s a tractor beam,” Izzy said. “Means they’ve got us.” 

He switched off the propulsion, but the XXG was slowly and inexorably drawn forward. It still took over an hour during which they stood around on the bridge like unclaimed baggage. 

Finally, when Axl was just starting to wonder if there really was no better use for their time, Izzy switched off the engine. By now they could make out details through the window. The smaller ships made room for them, providing a corridor through which they were pulled forward until their whole view was filled by grey metal. 

“Showtime.” Izzy stood up and held out a hand to Aino. “May I ask for this dance?” 

She took it with a wry smile. 

They all went down to the hatch and waited some more. When the ship was jostled again, Axl felt dread settle in his stomach. What had Duff said? Count backwards from a thousand? He had just started to try it out when Izzy nodded at Slash. Then he clicked Duff’s shackles together and with a hand on his nape, he guided him to his knees. Axl let Slash restrain his wrists and knelt down, watching out of the wink of his eye how Mikah did the same. 

It was a precaution, Izzy had said, to make sure none of the slaves presented the slightest threat. Aino stepped up next to Izzy and reached once more for his hand. Axl saw how he briefly squeezed hers. He could only guess what was transpiring between them. 

When the request to open the hatch came, Izzy complied. It opened with the usual screech and Axl was immensely grateful that at least he didn’t have to keep his eyes down. There was no way he would have managed. 

About twenty heavily armed people stood in front of the entrance, weapons pointed into their direction. 

“That’s what I call a warm welcome,” Izzy said. “Hallo Simo, Alvi, Yva? Long time no see. I think you might remember my wife?”

“Shut up, Jeff,” the guy at the front said. “Hands over your head. Everybody. You know the drill.”

‘Everybody’ complied at once, except Izzy and Aino. 

“I’ve come to visit my dear old Mom,” Izzy said with fake sweetness. “Care to let her know I’m here?”

“Your dear old Mom died two years ago,” the man said. “Pity you didn’t bother to show up then. But your father will be pleased to see you. Or not. We’ll see, I guess. And now, hands over your head.”

Izzy made a step forward, not caring about the order. Aino, her hand still in his, followed. 

“No need to show me the way,” he said. “I think I still remember.” 

He was stopped when the barrel of a gun was pressed directly into his chest. 

“You know you can’t shoot me, Yva,” he told the woman. “All my precious genetic information would be lost. We don’t want that to happen, do we?”

He just stepped past her. 

“Oh, fuck,” the first man said. “Take the others, make sure they are secured somewhere.”

A man seized Axl’s arm and pulled him up. He had given up on counting backwards. Really, Duff’s tips were useless crap, sometimes. Instead, he just did his best to not resist when he was told to get a move on. 

They walked through a connection tunnel and then they were on the freaking ship … space station… whatever. At first, they were all shooed into a decontamination chamber, and when they came out on the other side, marched through corridors that never seemed to end. They were very different from those on the XXG, wide and airy, the walls paneled, the lights working. It shouldn’t make him feel claustrophobic, but it did. 

After only a couple of yards they were separated. Izzy and Aino walked ahead in one direction, while the rest of them were shooed off into a byway. It took Axl all he had to not protest, but do as Izzy had told them, and just fucking comply. 

Soon the environment changed, from bright and well maintained to rougher and dim-lit. It was not neglected per se, rather looked … fuck, it reminded him of the slave tracts on Tarui. The walls were plain metal here instead of unhewn rock, but they had the same gloomy feeling to them. 

Axl was not surprised when they reached the cells, a long line of cubicles, each with a glass front. Just like the whipping cell, he was so familiar with. 

Slash and Mikah were sent into one of those cells, then Lis and Duff and then one of those doors opened right in front of him. Axl’s knees locked. He couldn’t take a step forward, no matter how much he was shoved and pushed. 

“Get in, slave,” the man who was having a hold of his arm said. 

Axl tried. He really did, but it wouldn’t work. He tried counting backwards again, but he had forgotten which number came before one thousand. 

Somebody pushed a fist into the small of his back, not brutally, more like a reminder, but it was useless. 

“For fuck’s sake, Simo,” someone else said. Axl had no idea who, his vision had narrowed into a tunnel that only allowed him to see the entry to the cell in front of him. “Don’t you see that he’s got a terror attack?”

“Then make him go in yourself,” the first man, Simo probably gave back. 

“If you’d free my fucking hands, I might just manage.”

“Don’t try anything stupid.”

“Won’t.”

Axl flinched when somebody put a hand on his shoulder, but instead of being pushed forward, he was turned away from the door. 

“Just walk backwards,” Jari said. “Try.”

It took Axl a few more minutes to calm himself down enough, but then he was really able to take a step. Jari, of all people, took him by his shoulders and guided him backwards through the cell door. When the door closed in front of him, the panic flared up for another brief moment, but then he had himself under control. 

“Come over and sit down.” Jari pointed at one of the two cots that were attached to the walls. Then he touched his back and Axl jumped. 

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself!” he hissed. Fuck, why did he have to be locked up with Jari of all people? 

“Keep your voice down,” Jari said. 

Yeah, right, their freaking roleplaying endeavour. Did that mean he now had to allow Jari to paw him over? Oh God, probably. What would Izzy say if it turned out that he hadn’t even been able to keep up pretension for one measly hour? 

“I just wanted to open your cuffs.”

“Really?” Axl asked. 

“Really. Let me?” 

“OK. But no touching anywhere else.”

“Won’t.”

“OK.” 

Hesitantly Axl turned around and Jari did indeed keep any touching restricted to the relevant area. He even tried to stay away from his hands, but just touch the metal, Axl noticed.

“There, done,” Jari said. 

“Thanks,” Axl muttered. “Still, I won’t…”

“I know. And, yeah, I’m sorry for that one time. I shouldn’t have. Know that now.”

‘No, you shouldn’t,’ Axl thought, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he sat down on one of the cots and pulled his feet up. 

“I don’t need much sleep,” Axl said. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jari replied. “You’re up at all hours.”

“Means, eventually you will be asleep and I won’t. And then I’ll have the perfect opportunity to kill you.”

“Why would you do that?” Jari asked, looking absolutely puzzled. 

Axl rolled his eyes. “In case you’re trying to molest me.”

“I said I won’t.”

“Then don’t.”

For a while they sat each on their cot and stared at each other. 

“You get that often?” Jari asked. “Slave terror?”

“Not your business,” Axl muttered. 

“Didn’t mean to be nosy. Just … anything I can do to help? While we’re here, I mean? If you get another one?”

“No. And I won’t get another one.” 

There probably wasn’t any sense in denying that he had just suffered through one, not after he had had to walk backwards into a fucking cell. But that didn’t explain why the fucker was suddenly so fucking nice. 

In fact, when Axl thought back, this had been going on since the almost explosion. Since then he had sometimes spotted Jari talking to Duff. And then, after Tarui … that was when Jari had started to give him those looks. Oh God, the pisser felt pity for him. How pathetic did one have to be to be pitied by Jari? Axl felt repulsed him himself. 

“I didn’t know that Jeff got you from Tarui,” Jari said.

Couldn’t he just shut up? He was probably one of those people who thought silence had been invented to be filled with inane blubbering. 

“I wouldn’t have, you know, if I had known. I wouldn’t have.”

“Wouldn’t have what?” Axl spat. 

Izzy was right. He was really stupid. Couldn’t even talk in complete sentences. 

“Wouldn’t have touched you.”

Sure, he wouldn’t have. For once the creepiness factor of what he was would have played in his favour. 

“I mean, I would freak out, too, if I were from there and somebody suddenly touched me. It’s not a nice place.”

“No,” Axl agreed. “Understatement of the century.”

“They shouldn’t have whipped you so much.”

“What?” Axl snapped. “What the fuck…” 

Then he remembered. Fuck, he had been naked in front of Jari. It was a memory he had successfully repressed. Until now. 

“I mean, I haven’t seen you do anything that would justify so much punishment. And he shouldn’t have burned you when you weren’t even doing anything. And …”

“Can we change the fucking topic?” Axl snapped. Really, did they have to talk about Tarui and what it was like? “How about we make some small talk about the weather?”

“The weather?” Again, Jari looked puzzled. “It’s always the same here. Because it’s not real, you know. It’s not a planet, so no weather. But we do have rain in the greenhouse.”

“Greenhouse?” Axl asked, suddenly curious. “A real one? Where they grow plants?”

“Food plants,” Jari said. “It’s pretty huge. A complete storey. Because there’s so many people to feed, you know.”

“Real food plants? Like tomatoes and stuff?”

“Sure. And apple trees. Would you like to see it?”

“I… yeah!” Axl then said. 

He had looked vegetables up on the system, of course, because he had been curious how they were fabricated. He had been surprised to find out that were not fabricated at all, but grew out of plants. There had been pictures of fruits hanging down from trees or growing on vines, but he had never seen it in real life. 

“I think Duff would like to see it, too. If they will ever let us out of here, that is.”

“They will,” Jari said, completely undisturbed by their incarceration. “They will yell at Jeff and threaten him with anything they can think about, and then they’ll forgive him. It’s always been like that. No matter what shit he pulled, they always forgave him. Because he’s so special.”

The last was said with a hint of bitterness. Slash had told him about it, that Izzy was a product of advanced genetic engineering. Somehow the idea had made him happy, because it meant that a tiny part of Izzy was non-natural, too. Maybe he hadn’t come out of a factory, but there had been some tinkering that set him apart from regular humans. 

Just that for unfathomable reasons, Izzy’s changes made him special and valuable, while Axl’s changes made him a heap of garbage.


	46. Wayward Son

Izzy wasn’t sure he was able to hide his nervousness, but he did his best. Learning that his Mom had died had come as a blow, but he tried to not let that get to him either. He had known of course that she wouldn’t get old, nobody on her side of the family did, but he had still been sure that she would be there. And sometimes he had almost looked forward to meeting her. 

It would also make things more difficult because she had always been a little quicker to see his version of events. She had also been at least sympathetic with his reluctance to just get married, while his father had never understood why it was such a big deal. No wonder, he had had his affairs since day one. 

His parents had gotten along, but that was all. It was also all that was required. Marriage served several purposes but personal happiness was not one of them. 

Walking through the long corridors woke all kinds of strange feelings. Childhood memories flashed up, he saw himself running around the corners, Sirpa the dog on his heels. Here he had once played hide and seek with Alvi and Yva and now they were pointing guns at his head. 

The corridors turned wider, more people came and went, most of them casting curious glances into their direction. He spotted quite a few he knew, even received some hesitant nods or a smile now and then. It was good to know that not everybody seemed to think that his behaviour had been unpardonable. 

Most of his clan members however wouldn’t give him that much lenience. He had always been set a bit apart from them. Whatever he had done, he could have been sure that the outcome would receive extra scrutinize. If he had been spotted talking to a girl, he had listened afterward to the same warning again and again that it may under no circumstances progress past superficial friendship. 

For the same reason he had been given some slack if he did go against customs now and then. Yes, he had been sat down each time and lectured about the importance of duty and responsibility, but then he had been forgiven. And just gone ahead and defied the next tradition he thought was stupid. 

It hadn’t exactly made him popular with his peers. Sure, some thought he was cool for doing what he wanted, but most were rather jealous that he should always get away with everything. 

Izzy’s nervousness rose when they reached the command centre. This was the heart of the ship, the long lines of offices familiar to the last detail, until they ended in front of … not the one his father had occupied since he had been a little boy, but the office that belonged to the commander. He should have expected it. Whether it made things easier or more difficult was yet to be seen. 

Yva hit the intercom and the door opened. 

Commander Isbell sat behind his giant desk. His hair had turned greyer than before, his face sported a lot more lines, but his eyes were still as sharp as Izzy remembered them. He didn’t stand up, just nodded at the guards to leave them alone. Aino stayed back, too, and when the door closed, and Izzy was alone with his father, he had forgotten pretty much every line of the script they had come up with. 

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and pulled up his shoulder, feeling like he was sixteen years old again, coming home from some type of adventure that had gone haywire. Maybe he was lucky and got away with a scolding once more.

While he waited, he let his gaze wander over the walls, the colourful pictures, the countless artifacts from different worlds. He spotted one he had brought back himself, a piece of rock, veined by a colourful mineral that could only be found on some distant planet. He clutched at the hope that it hadn’t just been forgotten but kept for sentimental reasons. 

“Hi, Dad,” he finally said, when the silence became a bit much to bear. 

“Do you think you still have the right to address me like that?” his father asked. 

“I heard about Mom,” Izzy said instead of a reply. It was probably the wrong thing to say, but he had to know. “How?”

“What do you think?”

The way almost everybody within her family died. Hereditary cancer. One of the genetic clusters that had been modified in Izzy’s own DNA. There were probably bets running somewhere, about whether it had worked and he managed to live past fifty. 

“She didn’t want you to know, but it had already started to develop before you left. It was hard on her. That you had run. Made her decline faster. She didn’t feel she had much left to live for. To her, you were everything. Do you have an idea what it meant for her when you were born? After all those miscarriages? And then you just ... Without a word.”

Izzy nodded, but he didn’t feel guilty. They had driven him away, with all their demands and expectations. It was at least just as much on them as it was on him. No way would he let his Dad blame him for the death of his Mom. 

“She blamed me for it. Said you had been too young and we should have given you a few more years.”

That made him look up. 

“To me she always said that everybody was just as young and that it was done that way for a reason.”

His dad huffed. 

“I didn’t agree. Not back then. I thought we had simply spoiled you too much. That I should have disciplined you more frequently instead of giving you one chance after the next. But as you’re back now … and with Aino, which makes me assume that you’re ready to do your duty… was she right? Would things have been different if we had allowed you to wait a few years?”

‘No,’ would have been the honest answer, but Izzy wasn’t here, to be honest. 

“Maybe,” he therefore said. “I certainly do understand your point a lot better. And I agree that I do have certain obligations just for being alive. Back then I was … I felt like I was only an investment. One that was supposed to yield a return.”

“It is what you are,” his father said and it hurt more than it should after all these years. “Not only, of course. You never were. You were a dream come true, Jeffery. But you were also an investment for the clan. The money and resources that were funneled into your creation … Of course, they came with expectations. Maybe you were really too young to understand that.”

Izzy nodded, although he did not agree in the least. Everybody invested money and resources into their offspring. It wasn’t his fault that in his case the biggest part of those had come from the clan and not his parents. He wondered if he would still be a dream come true, once his father found out that he had cut down the return of investment to zero for good. 

“How do we proceed from here?” he asked. “I’m here, Aino’s here. We’re willing to try, but first, we need to know if you still want us to try.”

It was a weird situation. His father still hadn’t gotten up from his seat, and Izzy still stood in front of the desk like a schoolboy who received a scolding. 

“You know that we have to,” came the reply after half an eternity of silence. “You also know that nobody else would get such a second chance.”

Again, Izzy nodded. 

“I expect you to use it. In fact, I expect you to do all you can to be an outstanding member of this clan, a dutiful son, a loving husband, and eventually a dedicated father.”

“Yeah, about that…,” Izzy rubbed his neck. “There is another reason why this marriage was difficult for me.”

“What now?” 

There it was, the familiar wrinkle between his eyebrows. Izzy was not keen on pushing it, but he had to, if he wanted to make sure that Duff stayed in the picture. Somehow, he had his doubts that as ‘loving husband’ he was supposed to keep his bedslave on the side. 

“I don’t do women.”

“You … what?”

“Maybe I should say, women don’t do anything for me.” He tried to look a little sheepishly. “I can’t get it up around them.”

“You…” Commander Isbell heaved a deep sigh and tiredly rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah. Was a bit embarrassing, back in the day.”

“Does Aino know?”

“She does. It’s not a problem for her.”

“That’s … good I suppose. How are you going to solve it?”

“My bedslave,” Izzy said. “Duff. We tried and it works with him. Aino likes him enough to have him … uhm … around. He gets me up and then … yeah. That kind of works.”

This declaration produced another sigh from his father, this time attached to a brief closing of eyes and shaking of the head. 

“It’s … unusual, but as long as it solves the issue. So that was behind all the drama? You were unwilling to own up to your … inclinations?”

Izzy tried another embarrassed grin. 

“Good. Or not. Obviously, I will keep an eye on you. For now, you will not leave your quarters unsupervised. You’re dismissed.”

“My crew,” Izzy said. 

“What about them?”

“I assume they are locked up?”

“For now.”

“Let them go back to my ship.”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then get them out of those cells. Nothing of this is their fault. And I need my slave, by the way.”

“What for?” his father asked annoyed. “You will survive a couple of nights without sex.”

“For medical reasons.” This was his last joker, but he had been prepared to play it. He turned around and pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Jeff!” his father exclaimed, and he heard rustling behind the desk. Then there were steps and finally a hand on his back. “What happened?”

“Accident.” 

Izzy pulled the shirt down again and turned back. For the first time, his Dad’s face was open, full of disturbance and maybe even a little bit of love for his lost son. Of course, all of that was gone in an instant. 

“Duff knows how to deal with it. It’s part of what I got him for. Because I was not able to manage sufficiently on my own.”

“Maybe you can see your crew tomorrow. But for tonight, I want all of you safely locked up. I need to think a few things through first, discuss it with the council. I also need to talk to Aino. See what she says. You get the issue.”

Izzy nodded.

“I’ll have your slave sent over. Which one is it?”

“Tall, blond kid.”

“Good. We will talk tomorrow.”

“All right.” 

“Don’t disappoint me again, Jeffrey,” came the last warning. “You may think you can get away with everything, but the rope you’re dancing on is more than a little frayed.”

He knew, of course. In the end, it would all depend on how the council reacted, but for now, it had gone better than he had hoped for. 

The guard was called back and Izzy was accompanied to … yes, it was his old room. His personal belongings weren’t there anymore, even the furniture was different, but it was the same room. 

For a moment he felt his throat constrict. The last time he had really talked to his mother had been in this room when she had lectured him about being kind during the wedding night, but not allow himself to be deterred if his wife wasn’t overly enthusiastic. Or if she would cry. Or beg him to stop. If he hadn’t known by then that there wasn’t going to be a wedding night, that talk alone would have been enough to make him run. 

He shook off the thoughts and activated a program on his bracelet that would give him an overview of any electronic device used within his vicinity. There were the usual of course, the vital systems that controlled oxygen supply, temperature, gravity, the lock on the door, several outlets for all types of equipment and, yes, a camera. Awesome. It meant he and Duff had to play along nonstop.


	47. Common Decency

Duff wished he had been locked up with anybody but Lis. She was nervous and unable to sit still for five fucking seconds. Maybe she started to realize that this was a little more than just a walk in the park. Yeah, was about time, right? 

“How long can they lock us up?” she asked eventually. 

“For as long as they like,” Duff replied tiredly. 

She gave him an incredulous look. “But there are surely laws…”

“I think you placed yourself outside the law.” Duff tried very hard to remain understanding but it became more and more difficult. “And from what I understood, these guys don’t care much for the empire’s laws anyway. They make their own, I’d say. Izzy told you all this was dangerous as fuck. Multiple times, if I remember correctly.” 

She sat down after that, only to be up again a minute later. Maybe he should be nicer, Duff thought. Lis probably didn’t have much experience with being locked up, but he just didn’t get her. He didn’t get why people kept falling for her bullshit either. But then, he had had the benefit to live in close quarters with her for months. You really got to know somebody if you were trapped on a space ship the size of the XXG. 

Slash’s story, Mikah’s story, somehow Lis always did what she wanted, took risks she wasn’t ready to pay the price for, and fucked up everybody’s life in her wake. 

Duff had no problem with taking risks. He wasn’t exactly innocent that way. But he had always been ready to deal with the fallout, which was a quality he missed in her. 

And he really wished she would sit down for just one minute. She was making him nervous and he was nervous enough because he was worried about Izzy. He may not be locked into one of these cells at the moment, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. 

He did his best to stay calm though, knowing that it wouldn’t help anybody if he started fretting, too. It was one of the few things he had learned at the slave camp, to just wait for the inevitable. If there was absolutely nothing, he could do to change his fate, then there was also no need to worry too much about what was going to happen. It would happen anyway, no matter whether he got upset or not. 

“Maybe this was a big mistake,” Lis said after she had paced the cell for another five minutes. 

“I suppose so,” Duff said. “But can’t be helped now, can it?”

“How can you be so calm?” She did sit down, but now she expected conversation. 

“Would it help if I started screaming?” 

Duff pulled his feet up onto the cot and laid down, face to the wall. He wasn’t in the mood to talk. He hoped Izzy was alright. He hoped Axl coped with being locked into a cell once again. At least their cells were all close to each other, he would hear if Axl freaked out. 

He had just decided that he should try and get some sleep, just in case there wouldn’t be any opportunity later when the door opened and one of all the Izzy lookalikes told him to get up. 

“Your master has asked for you,” he said. 

Duff quickly stood up. Lis followed suit, looking as if she was about to inflict her questions onto the guard, but the door was already closing behind him before she had a chance to say anything

They walked the way back they had come from. He spotted Slash and Mikah in another cell, both of them lying on their cots and staring at the ceiling, but Axl had been locked up further into the other direction. It likely meant that he was together with Jari, and while Jari had been a lot nicer lately, having him sharing a cell with Axl was not the best idea. 

Another thing he couldn’t change and so he tried not to worry too much. 

Duff recognized the intersection where they had been separated and was now marched down the corridor Izzy and Aino had vanished into. The further they went, the nicer the ship became. Despite his current anxiety, Duff couldn’t help but admire the patterns that adorned the walls, bold swishes of colour that bled into each other, formed swirls, abstract forms, and then separated again. They reminded him of the photographs Izzy took. Yes, he depicted astronomical features, but a lot of them were similar to the clouded, nebulated images they were walking past. Maybe he did miss his home now and then and had tried to reproduce a similar feeling on his own ship. 

They encountered people here and there, and Izzy had been right, the family resemblance could be spotted almost everywhere. When he noticed a little girl with blond hair, he almost stumbled over his feet while staring after her. 

The maze seemed never-ending, but eventually, they reached their destination. A door opened in front of him, and there, inside the room, stood Izzy. Duff felt an immediate need to check him over, make sure he was all right, or at least hug him and start crying at his shoulder, but the warning glance he received made him stop where he stood. 

When the door closed behind him, Izzy turned his back on him and sat down on the bed. 

“You called for me?” Duff asked softly, checking if this was the problem Izzy tried to get across. That they had to keep up pretenses for now. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Looks like we’re gonna stay here for a while. Make yourself useful and put the stuff away.”

He pointed towards a crate on the desk and when Duff checked it, it contained clothes, toiletries and, the cream Izzy used on his scars. Somebody had been in his cabin. It didn’t take more than five minutes to find a home for everything and then he returned to the door and waited. 

Izzy didn’t leave him standing for long. 

“I’m tired,” he said. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

There was a supersonic shower in the adjacent bathroom and Duff assumed that taking one wouldn’t be so out of the ordinary. 

When he started to help Izzy undress, it occurred to him, that quite a lot of their usual activities were still based on a traditional master/slave relationship. He didn’t mind. He liked taking care of Izzy and he always got the impression that for Izzy, getting pampered was something he wouldn’t usually allow. It always made Duff feel a bit special. And now it helped them to play their roles a lot more naturally than they would have otherwise managed. 

Of course, Izzy’s water shower was a lot more luxurious than the run of the mill supersonic they had now, but for their purpose, this one worked even better. It had the benefit that the soundwaves would interfere with whatever kind of bug might have been placed within this room.

Duff folded Izzy’s clothes, put them onto a chair, then stripped quickly himself and closed the bathroom door behind them. He dusted them both with cleaning powder and then switched the shower on. They had about five minutes. 

“Camera,” Izzy said. 

“Fuck. I’ve hoped only bugs.”

“Axl?” 

“Didn’t see him. We were all stuffed into cells. But he was close and I would have heard if he had flipped. So, I assume OK. Slash is OK, too. Lis is close to a nervous breakdown. What did your Dad say?”

“They’ll give me a chance,” Izzy said, while carelessly rubbing the powder into his hair. “But for now, I’m just as locked up as the rest of you, so I’m not sure what this will help us.”

“I guess we’ll have to give it some time,” Duff said. “Turn around, I’ll do it.”

He divided the cleaning powder more evenly over Izzy’s head before the supersonic shower could knock it out again. Izzy’s hair became soft and fluffy under his hands, standing up into all directions with electrostatic. It would settle quickly afterwards, unlike his own, but right now he didn’t mind at all. It meant his face wouldn’t be so overly visible for the camera. 

“You up for a show? Or want to delay?” Izzy asked. 

“You mean … sex?” Duff hissed. “Now? With a freaking camera?”

“I’m not supposed to know about the camera. Anyway, up to you. But sooner or later it has to happen. Might be better now than waiting until it becomes even more awkward.” 

Duff was pretty sure that the level of awkwardness he was currently experiencing could not be surpassed. Izzy, however, just grinned at him, as if he actually looked forward to shocking his family. Right. Duff had promised to support him in whatever he deemed necessary and if it was absolutely required that his family was treated to a live sex show, then who was he to deny them? 

“I’m game,” he said, trying to sound a lot cooler than he felt. 

They finished the shower to not raise suspicion. A water shower might be something people liked to indulge in, and even spend more time and resources on than was strictly necessary, but the supersonic was no such thing. It cleaned. Nothing more. 

Duff picked up the cream and when he joined Izzy, he found him already stretched out on the bed. Without bothering to dress, he straddled his thighs, the way he usually did and got to work. He didn’t know exactly where the camera was, but he supposed it wouldn’t hurt if he did his job extra thoroughly. It would also push the dreaded performance of doom a few more minutes into the future. 

When he was done, he sat back and waited for further instructions. 

Izzy rolled onto his back. “I think they were kind enough to provide lube with the rest of my shit.”

“Yes, I put it into the bathroom,” Duff replied. 

“Bathroom.” Izzy shook his head in mild reproach. “Go get it. Time to get you ready for some real work.”

Duff did and crawled back onto the bed. He wasn’t quite sure how to proceed now. This felt a bit like their first time together, when he hadn’t been sure what kind of service was required. By now he was very sure about what Izzy liked, but he had no idea if he was allowed to give it. 

Apparently, his face gave his insecurities away, because Izzy just reached for him and pulled him down. He rolled him onto his back, and dived down, kissing him first, before burying his face at his neck. 

“Don’t think so much,” he whispered. “Just follow my lead.”

‘How?’ Duff thought. He always thought he was following Izzy’s lead, but even when had still been in full slave mode, Izzy had accused him of being bossy. 

“Would it help if I gave you orders?” Izzy asked, this time at his other ear. 

“Yes,” Duff breathed, insanely grateful for the offer. 

Izzy sat back and tossed the bottle of lube into his direction. 

“Get yourself ready.”

Duff gave him a bewildered look. This was new. It was always Izzy who prepped him, no exception. Izzy had once muttered something about making sure that it was done to the right degree, or some such shit. He was pretty sure the real reason was that Izzy loved to make him squirm before fucking him. 

Still, did he really have to add something new now, when there was a camera pointed at them? 

‘How much of an exhibitionist are you?’ Izzy had asked him and now he realized, that his reply had been a bit too loudmouthed. 

Izzy, on the other hand, was a total exhibitionist, and he used it in such a passive-aggressive way that Duff wanted to slap him. Nothing about this was because they ‘had to’. No, this was Izzy in pure form, showing his clan that they could threaten him, lock him up, do whatever they wanted, it wouldn’t leave enough of an impression to keep him from enjoying his time in whatever form he saw fit. 

Duff had been pretty sure that he wouldn’t mind performing for an audience. Fuck, he had spent six months being fucked in front of an – admittedly bored – audience. But as it turned out, he was not fond of people watching while he couldn’t watch them back. 

He did his best though to open the bottle as if this was a normal course of business for them. Then he coated his fingers and reached for his anus. 

“Not so shy,” Izzy said. “Look at me while you’re doing it.”

As soon as they were in a room without a camera, Duff would strangle him. It was one thing to have sex in front of an audience, it was something else to be turned into a spectacle. For Izzy’s family! Did he have no shame at all? Whom was he kidding, of course, Izzy had no shame at all. What was new about that? 

He tried to find a better position on the bed and then he looked up. He hoped dearly that the camera was behind him because he was sure that he was glaring daggers. He got up on his knees and pushed two fingers into his ass. 

“Eyes up, Duff,” Izzy repeated, when his gaze had slipped down once again, and Duff forced himself to keep steady. 

“That’s better.” 

Izzy reached out and brushed a hand over his cheek, while Duff was still busy moving his own fingers in an out. 

“Just like that.”

Izzy’s hand traveled down to his dick and after a few practiced strokes, Duff grew hard. 

“There, keep that up for me, will you?”

Obediently, Duff wrapped his hand around his cock. So now he had to also jerk himself off in addition to fingerfucking himself? 

Izzy leant back and watched him for a while. Duff felt his cheeks grow hot. It wasn’t only the camera that embarrassed him, it was the way Izzy looked at him, smug, arrogant, knowing that he could make him do whatever he wanted, fuck, that he could make him come just by the power of his voice. It was mortifying, it was humiliating, it was … yep… it was hot. Apparently wasn’t the only one devoid of any sense of shame. 

“Good boy.” Izzy sat up and crouched nearer again. 

Duff dearly hoped that his humiliation was coming to an end, but, no, they had only just started. 

“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” Izzy took his face into his hands and kissed him. 

Duff faltered, his fingers almost slipping out of his ass, but he caught himself in time. 

“Suck,” Izzy said and pushed a finger into his mouth. 

Right, Duff thought, there had been one hole that hadn’t been sufficiently occupied yet. His eyes fluttered shut again, but a hand under his chin reminded him immediately where he was supposed to look. 

“Sorry about this.” Izzy’s lips were at his ear again. “Thought it would be easier if you had control over everything. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of it in a minute.”

The former arrogance on Izzy’s face was gone, replaced by something a lot gentler, and familiar. Duff felt almost guilty when he realized that this was not just pure menace on Izzy’s side. This time he couldn’t say ‘no’ if anything got too much, so, yes, doing everything himself was indeed a sure way to avoid a panic attack. 

“That’s enough, I suppose,” Izzy said and pulled his finger out of Duff’s mouth. “Time to get something with a bit more substance into you, don’t you think?”

Duff tried to just drop forward onto his belly, but Izzy caught him and turned him around. 

“Trying to hide again, aren’t we? Not gonna happen tonight, sweetheart.”

Yeah, and as much as he wanted to hide, sadly that made sense, too. Without any way to articulate his discomfort, Izzy was relying on looks to gauge his limits. And that was easier if they kept eye contact.

So Duff lay down on his back. He spread his legs and Izzy reached between them, checking the amount of stretching he had managed. He got a questioning look and knew what it was about. He was not yet quite as loose as he normally was. He hadn’t focussed on getting ready, had just moved his fingers in and out, and concentrated on not killing anybody. Didn’t matter. It would be OK. 

He smiled a little as reply, and Izzy pulled his hand back. Then he brought himself into position and pushed in, slowly at first, then, when he didn’t meet much resistance, with force. Duff relaxed around the familiar feeling. Yes, he was a little too tight, but the slight burn grounded him in the here and now. He couldn’t quite forget about the camera but didn’t mind so much anymore. He sighed and arched up a little, while Izzy fucked him harder and with a lot less consideration than he would normally bring up. 

It felt good, though, hard and fast, almost negligent sometimes, but whenever Duff thought it was getting a bit too much, Izzy pulled back, kissed him, petted him, and eased him back into the rhythm. 

“Look at me Duff,” came another reminder, when Duff closed his eyes again. “Just stay with me, OK?”

And so Duff held eye contact until Izzy finally faltered and was unable to keep the connection himself. Duff watched his face pull into the familiar expression of intense concentration, watched him come, and then, when Izzy told him so, he came, too. 

Afterwards Duff wondered if he now had to sleep on the floor, but Izzy pulled him into his arms, doing his best – and probably failing – to make it appear like something devoid of love and tenderness.


	48. Emotional Distance

The next day started better than Izzy had hoped for. He was allowed out of his room and even got permission to move around without supervision. That came as a surprise. He opened a couple of doors at random to check if he would run into a barrier, but, no, he was free to roam at least all the places that weren’t of special interest. 

“What about breakfast?” he asked Duff, after a short stroll through his childhood home. 

“Sure. Where can I make some?”

“You don’t make it, you eat it,” Izzy replied. “The dining hall is down there.”

They started into the direction he had pointed out, Duff a respectful half step behind him. 

“Everybody eats there. Or at least everybody from this section. The ship is divided into different parts, mainly according to the different families that live there. They act pretty much autonomous from each other. The clan’s council makes decisions that affect everybody, but below that, the families organize themselves independently.”

They reached the dining hall, a large room that could seat about fifty persons, which included the family members and the slaves they owned. At this time of the day, it was rather empty, except for a few distant cousins in a corner. They looked into their direction but made no move to acknowledge his presence any further.

“Slaves usually eat over there.” Izzy pointed towards a corner. “They get the same food everybody else gets, but they are kept apart from the family.”

“Should I …” Duff started. 

“Nope. You’re my personal slave, you stay with me. In fact, you should not mingle overly much with the other slaves at all.”

“Why not?” Duff followed him to a table. 

“Because being so close to me means you’re privy to personal information and I am supposed to not trust you to keep them to yourself. So normally I would keep you apart from the community slaves. Was after all the whole reason for this scenario, so do me a favour and stick to it.”

They picked a table and Izzy pointed towards the door. 

“There’s the kitchen. You go in there and get our food.”

“You mean I just…”

“Yeah. Would look weird if I went myself when I have you for that.”

Duff nodded and walked off. Izzy had just sat down and made a show out of not caring about the current company when the door opened again and Aino entered. She spotted him and came over. 

“Hey, darling,” Izzy said loudly, trying for something like a pleased smile. “I hope the old man wasn’t too hard on you.”

Aino sat down. “Was OK,” she said. “I’m the victim here, remember? We decided to attribute my flight to a sudden bout of insanity caused by severe grief.”

Izzy snorted. 

“The rest was pretty straight forward, just as expected. Settling down, making baby, bla bla.”

“Good,” Izzy said. 

“What the fuck did you tell him?” she said, a bit upset now. “I thought we had settled on a plan, but he was hemming and hawing until he finally told me that apparently you don’t do women in general and it was now up to me to convince you differently.”

Izzy grinned. “Yeah. Came to me on the spur of the moment. Should buy us a bit of time.”

“Time for … what?”

“Not for what. Out of what. In vitro fertilization.”

“In vitro … Oh fuck, you mean …”

“Yep. I know his line of thinking. Just have enough sex with a woman, and I will eventually realize that I like it. But if we go the laboratory route anyway, why should I even bother?”

Also meant that hopefully, nobody would notice that he didn’t have anything to offer to add to an oocyte in a test tube.

Aino shook her head. “You should have warned me. He asked me how I felt about Duff being around when we had sex and I had no idea what to say to that! Thank God he attributed my stuttering to being horribly embarrassed about it all. He grew all comforting after that and told me, I would surely manage to get you to a point where we wouldn’t need Duff anymore. Really, Jeff, you have the dirtiest mind in the entire galaxy.”

Izzy shrugged. “It did the trick, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did.”

Duff returned with the food and Izzy sent him off to fetch another plate. Then the door to the kitchen opened, and a young woman hurried towards them. 

“Youla!” Izzy had barely enough time to stand up before she was already hugging him. 

“You bastard!” she exclaimed, and first punched against his shoulder before she smacked a kiss square onto his mouth. “You could have told me you were back. I heard rumours his morning, but I thought, you surely would have come over and said ‘hi’ if you were really back.”

“Just arrived yesterday.” And wasn’t really in a position to renew old acquaintances right away, he added silently.

Duff appeared behind her and carefully put the plate onto the table. Then he stood a bit to the side, looking crestfallen as he watched the scene. 

“Youla, this is Duff,” he said. “I suppose he’s the one who told you I’m really back. Duff, Youla is my little sister.” 

Not my secret lover which I left behind when I ran away from my wife, he should have added, but Duff would get it, hopefully. 

“I’m not,” she hushed him quickly. “Really, Jeff, stop saying that. And definitely not in front of others. I’m not. I don’t know my father,” she said in Duff’s direction. “And my Mom wouldn’t tell, so there is absolutely no proof for Jeff’s crazy ideas. He only wanted siblings and decided I was a good fit.”

Izzy snorted. In fact, there was really no proof for this theory, but his father had always had affairs. It was Youla’s mother who had paid a steep price for having a child out of the matching system. She had been degraded from a rather high position to doing menial tasks. And sadly, Youla had paid, too. A degenerative neural disease that led to muscle dystrophia. One that was not so uncommon in his father’s line. 

“You look good,” he said. And she did, although he could already make out first instabilities in her gait. 

“I am!” she beamed. “There is a new drug, and it’s working. OK, for now at least. But I’m not complaining. Just happy for every year I get. We’ve got to catch up later, OK? When my shift is over.”

“Would love to,” Izzy said. “And … I might need somebody to park my slaves with now and then. I’d prefer to keep them out of the main contingent.”

“No problem, I’ll be happy to look after them.” She smiled at Duff who stood a few steps away, doing his best to show perfect slave behaviour. “Come over any time you like, when Jeff doesn’t need you. Fuck, I have to run. See you later. And don’t think you can just avoid me, I’ll come and find you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of.”

She hugged him again and then she was off. 

“She could just do a test,” Duff said when Youla was gone and Izzy had pulled him down next to him. He had clearly been wondering whether he was supposed to kneel at his feet or some similar bullshit. “About who’s her father, I mean.”

“It’s my Dad,” Izzy said. “But it would pull him down, too, and her Mom didn’t want that, so she just claimed that the father was unknown. Youla could request one herself, of course, but so far, she hasn’t. And, to be fair, it wouldn’t change anything for her. It would just demote my Dad. Avoiding the matching system is a serious offence. I suppose he got careless because he couldn’t have children with my Mom.”

“She’s still as nice as I remember her,” Aino said. “Looks like she’s the only one not joining into the general ostracization, huh?”

A few more people had come in, but none of them had done more than look at them. 

“We need to get the others back,” Izzy said and attacked his breakfast. If all his distant and not so distant cousins stayed away, he wouldn’t complain. “There’s no reason to keep them locked up if we are running around free.”

“Only to keep you in line,” Aino said. 

“That’s bullshit. Where should they even go with the ship locked up?”

At that moment Izzy’s bracelet vibrated and he quickly checked the message. Somebody had bugged the XXG and in addition, tapped into her computer. That, for once, was awesome news. It meant at least some of them would be allowed back on the ship sooner or later. It wouldn’t help him for as long as she was tethered to the mothership, but it was a step in the right direction.

Also, finally, all the money he had spent for a top-notch surveillance system paid off. Whenever any hardware, software whatever was installed onboard his ship, he would be notified. Even a new coffee preparer would give an alarm. For now, he approved the additions, meaning whoever was spying on him would get a clear signal from all the bugs and cameras. Once he was allowed back, he could always jam them. 

“I’ll talk to my Dad,” he said. “Or at least try to get them out. When’s our first night of … ugh.. marital duty due?”

“Should be about a week and a half,” Aino said. “You don’t plan to really do it do you?” 

She looked a bit ill at the thought. 

“I’ll do my best to avoid it,” Izzy replied. “But you know as well as I do that we might have to. My room was bugged. Yours will be, too.”

For a moment she closed her eyes. 

“Don’t fuck it up for something like this, Aino,” Izzy warned her. 

Really if they went through all this trouble only to have her pull a stop because she couldn’t tolerate his dick in her pussy, then he would heed his Mom’s advice and not be deterred by his wife’s cries for mercy. 

“I won’t,” she said, and the stubborn streak around her mouth was back. “If you can suffer through it, I can, too.”

Izzy nodded. 

“Back to the topic at hand: how do I get my crew back?”

In the end, it was easy. They all just came walking into the dining hall. 

+++

If Duff had worried that he might fuck up being Izzy’s personal slave by his sheer lack of knowledge regarding local custom, etiquette, expectations, he needn’t have. Being a slave for Izzy’s clan, it turned out, was as unregulated as Izzy’s way of slave handling had been. All in all, there were three rules: 

1\. Do as you are told  
2\. Make yourself useful  
3\. Don’t bother anybody when you’re not in use

Apart from that, everybody treated his slave differently. If Izzy wanted Duff to follow him closely and be at hand when he was suddenly needed, then that was his decision and nobody questioned it. Not even if it meant that Duff pretty much didn’t have anything to do at all. 

Most of the time he sat next to Izzy and waited. And waited. And tried to keep his boredom under control. He had forgotten how it felt to have absolutely nothing to do, but stare holes into space. 

Today, just as every day, Izzy had been summoned by his father, in general only referred to as ‘the old man’. 

A fitting moniker at least, for the old man was pretty old for somebody who was Izzy’s father. Within Duff’s own caste, where people with absolutely no perspective to ever have a decent life, started producing equally chanceless children as soon as they hit puberty, he would have more likely been Izzy’s grandfather. And there wouldn’t only be one grandchild, but about fifty-five. 

The first time Duff had been dragged into one of these meetings, he had been short of a nervous breakdown. But now that he did this for the third time, he knew the drill. Be quiet, look pretty, and gaze adoringly at Izzy whenever he said something that was more than a muttered ‘yeah’. Which didn’t happen that often, so Duff was spared too much adoration. 

Just as during the last two meetings, the old man sat behind his desk while Izzy occupied a chair on the other side, and just as before, Izzy was tense as a bowstring while keeping up the usual front of eternal coolness. 

For lack of other seating possibilities, Duff sat on the floor next to Izzy’s chair. He was grateful that this was not a common arrangement, but, alas, dragging in another chair just for the comfort of a slave would have looked weird too. It didn’t really matter. It was not the first time that he was sitting on the floor and spent his time being bored to tears. 

Who would have thought that his slave training would one day come in handy? He had definitely given up on that hope. But this – exactly this – they had practiced over hours, until his knees had hurt from the concrete floor, his muscles had cramped and he had wished to just be allowed to stand up for one single minute. A measly thirty-minute-meeting with Izzy’s father was nothing compared to that. 

It was a strange arrangement, Duff thought. He didn’t know his own father, but if he had come home after more than ten years in outer space, he would have hoped that either of his parents would show a bit more joy than the old man did about Izzy’s return. So far, all Izzy had received were stern looks, a tight working schedule, and lots … really lots of reproaches about anything he did or didn’t do. Just sitting and listening to it was exhausting. 

“Let’s go through your schedule for next week,” the old man said and pulled some documents up on his screen. “I have assigned you to three different committees so far. Water management is the most important one. We are having difficulties with the usage to recycling ratio. Partly because equipment has to be exchanged, but also because we need to find ways to be more efficient. We have allocated more space to the greenhouses and while that step was necessary, water usage has increased. We need to make them more self-reliant and I want you to look into that.”

Izzy nodded, but Duff saw the lines around his mouth, which indicated annoyance. He would probably prefer to repair broken garbage systems to being involved in politics. The second committee was about just as exciting: waste removal. The third, however, made Izzy’s jaw tense even further. 

“I want you to have a look at our slave training programs. You were always exceptionally good at that. I have to give you that. I might not like your tendencies to get so close to your slaves, but you have always been very good at getting the most out of them. So, look it over, see if something can be changed. We have bought a dozen right off the block from Moranta. You can get started on them.”

“Is that all?” Izzy asked. 

“No.” The old man closed down the screen and looked up. “We need to talk about him.”

Duff shrunk under the finger that pointed into his direction. Maybe he had been wrong in his assumptions and there were certain expected behaviours he hadn’t known about. 

“What about him?” Izzy asked, doing his best to sound bored. 

Duff knew him well enough to hear the bristling under his voice, but he was reasonably sure that nobody else would notice. 

“You have gotten too attached, Jeff. Again.”

“I …what?” Now Izzy was openly bristling. 

“See? That’s what I mean. I only breach the topic and you’re getting upset. Just as it has always been. You’re infatuated with him. And I understand why, he is pretty and obviously well trained to suit your needs, but you should maintain some emotional distance.”

Izzy didn’t reply. He was just staring at his father, not even angry, only… resigned, Duff realized to his surprise. As if this was an argument, they had every other week and which he couldn’t win if he tried for a lifetime. 

Unlike Izzy, Duff was not surprised by the reproach. Izzy may try as hard as he wanted, he didn't have his facial expressions under control. Every now and then, when he looked down at him during these gruesome meetings, his eyes would go soft or he would smile a little or do something else than what he probably should do: ignore that Duff was even there. Fuck, once his hand had landed in his fucking hair and Izzy hadn't even noticed what he was doing. It came so automatically. He had told him so after the first meeting, and Izzy had tried harder during the second, but it was hopeless. He could just as well admit it: he was infatuated.

“It was exactly the same with this dog you owned. Do you remember?”

“Sirpa,” Izzy said. 

“Yes, that was her name. You put her wellbeing and with that your personal needs over those of the clan.”

“I was nine years old,” Izzy brought out through his teeth. 

“And you did the same at twelve and at fifteen and the last time was at nineteen. Each time you have acted out of pure self-interest. Now you are married, but your wife comes second to your slave.”

“Duff is not…”

“I do understand the need for a bed slave. There are things a wife won’t do for you and it’s best to live out those needs with somebody of less importance. Keeps a marriage intact. But with you, it’s always the other way round, Jeffrey. You grow attached to those who are of lesser import.”

Izzy took a deep breath and Duff wished he could take his hand to calm him.

“There are certain expectations.”

“We’ve been through that,” Izzy forced out. “I am aware. I said I am ready to fulfill them.”

“I’m not talking about your genetic setup. I’m talking about your abilities, your perspectives, your qualifications. You were provided with all the prerequisites to take on an important role within the clan, Jeffrey.”

Izzy took another deep breath but kept silent. 

“You were raised to lead. Yet you prefer to waste your time playing with dogs and slaves. You can’t lead if you are not able to keep an emotional distance from those you want to lead. Of course, it is easy to form an attachment with those you are supposed to direct. Doesn’t mean you should do it. A slave will always make it easy for you.” 

Duff could almost see thoughts about how easy Axl had made it for him rattling through Izzy’s head. 

“Even a free person who will be in a subordinate position will be ready to be your friend. The question is, should they be?”

It lay on Duff’s tongue to say that a) Izzy was an awesome leader and b) maybe he needed emotional attachment to live up to his abilities and c) that all of them being Izzy’s friends had never cast any doubt on his authority. 

Maybe Izzy’s father needed ‘emotional distance’ to keep his authority. Izzy sure as hell didn’t. 

“Point is, I am aware that such a position might come with a certain … loneliness, but that is a price you should be willing to pay. For the good of the clan. It is your duty to take care of them. It is not their duty to like you.”

Izzy nodded, just as resigned as he had looked at the beginning. And Duff stopped wondering why Izzy was always trying to keep them all at arm’s length, and felt that he had to carry all responsibility on his own, and chastised himself if he even slightly failed to keep them all happy and in one piece all the time. It had been drilled into him. 

Duff thought back to his own childhood. Yes, he had started early to take on responsibility, but nobody had forced him, too. His Mom, unable to care for them as she was, had still always told him to ‘do what made him happy’. And he had tried to do that, in between jobs. Nobody had ever made him feel guilty about it. 

“I understand,” Izzy finally said, and Duff really, really hoped that he didn’t. “Can we talk about my ship?”

“What about it?”

“I need to get on board.”

“You will understand that this is currently not the best idea.”

“Then when?”

“When you have managed to get your wife pregnant.”

“What?” Izzy sat up straight. “But that might take years!”

“That’s non-negotiable, Jeffrey.”

Izzy looked at his hands. 

“Then let my mechanic onboard. The XXG is old, she can’t be left in dock without any maintenance for that long. Slash knows what to do. And my other slave is trained to assist him.”

“Ah, yes. The redhead. He is … unusual. A bit defiant for a bed slave, don’t you think?”

“He’s mainly there to assist my mechanic,” Izzy replied. “Yes, he sucks in bed, but he was the only one there, so I told Slash, if he wants him, he can use him. I don’t like to waste resources.”

The old man nodded solemnly. That probably made perfect sense to him.

“If he wants to exchange him for one of our slaves…”

“Slash likes Axl somehow,” Izzy said without showing the slightest agitation at the suggestion. “I think his defiance makes him interesting.”

“Ah…,” Izzy’s father hesitated. “Yes, that can be a certain appeal. Not for you, if I remember correctly.”

His gaze landed on Duff again.

“I admit that his devotion is endearing. Still. Stop spoiling him. Make sure he knows his place.”

“We’ve been through that,” Izzy grated out. “My ship?”

“Your mechanic may have access. And the slave. You, however, no. Tomorrow you will meet with the council. I expect you to leave a good impression.”

Izzy gave another tired nod. Duff wished there was anything he could do for him, but he knew that it was a lost cause. Izzy would grit his teeth and pull even further back into himself. And he would sit next to him and watch and be devoted and endearing and powerless to change anything. Life as a slave sucked.


	49. Under the Stars

One thing Axl had been almost excited about when they had made their decision to meet Izzy’s family, was that he would learn something about his childhood. Having had no childhood himself, it was something fascinating to him. 

On Tarui, children were treated just like adults. The only difference was the workload. He had been very surprised when he had learned that free humans actually treated children completely different from grownups. Even Duff, who hadn’t had a long childhood, had been allowed to be a kid before he had hit his teens and started to look for work. 

But when he now tried to picture little Izzy on board this giant ship, it was more difficult than he had thought. First, there was the idea of Izzy actually being little. Had he been just as sulky and moody? Or had he laughed and smiled like the children he spotted here and there. 

Since his departure from Tarui, Axl hadn’t seen many children at all. The ports, it seemed, were not exactly their natural habitat and whenever Izzy had to deal with people outside the XXG, those had been adults, too. 

Children at this place, however, were something else. They behaved so weirdly. They ran around in groups, were loud and annoying, and had nothing in common with any of the children he had known personally in his life. Or from the child he had been himself. 

Another thing that couldn’t have been easy for Izzy was the sheer amount of people everywhere. He was such a private person, but here, being alone was pretty much impossible. Wherever they went, they ran into people that had an unsettling resemblance with Izzy. Maybe there were less populated areas on the ship, but if so, they weren’t allowed to go there. 

He had a lot of time to think about this problem because there was another issue he hadn’t taken into account: the boredom that came with being a slave who had absolutely nothing to do. 

Axl had been afraid about what he might have to endure to be believable. From Izzy’s warnings he had expected to be subjected to daily cock sucking at a minimum, but so far, he had yet to spot behaviour like that. Yes, slaves were groped at random, but no more than at any other place he had ever visited.

Maybe he should have expected that Izzy had been exaggerating. His personal mantra was that one always should be prepared at least two steps on top of one expected to happen. Just in case. It had kept them from dying an untimely death out in space several times, so there probably was some sense after that idea. 

He and Slash took their clues from Izzy and the worst Izzy ever did to Duff was pull him into his lap, hug him casually to his side or give him a pat on his ass when he sent him off to fetch something. 

That was not the exhausting part. What had him ready to ram his head against the next wall was that there was absolutely nothing to do for him. He followed Slash around. That was all. As he was not supposed to participate in conversations – or even pay attention to what was talked about – he did the same Duff did all day long: stare into space and wait for the very few moments, when there was actually something exciting to do, like go to the kitchen and fetch the food. 

During the day it was enervating, but at night it became unbearable. Axl did not sleep. Normally that meant he was up and about, walked through the ship, read books, watched movies, did whatever he wanted. Here he was restricted to Slash’s cabin and they didn’t even have access to any type of system. Slash did his best to entertain him, but he did need his sleep and, in the end, Axl was left with staring at the ceiling and waiting for morning, which would bring the exciting tasks of taking a shower and fetching breakfast. 

This was day five since their arrival and he was down to counting hours instead of days. Another week and he would probably count the minutes, just to have something to do. Duff, too, looked exhausted in a way he hadn’t even looked after a day of scraping ice within the XXG’s freezer rooms. And all that from doing nothing. 

Slash didn’t have much to do either, but at least he was allowed to talk to strangers. In the beginning, they had been treated as outcasts. Fine with him. But as the days passed, the first people were unable to keep their curiosity in check and started to ask questions. 

Also, Izzy did have some friends, it turned out. The first one to defy the atmosphere of general hostility was some woman who according to Izzy, was his sister while, according to her, she was absolutely not. 

Then some guy named Leevi came out of the woods and wanted to rehash old memories about how they had gone to school together. That at least had been kind of interesting, because Axl had no idea how school worked for normal children. 

Duff was no help in that matter. His school experience had been even less interactive than Slash’s, who had at least been able to talk remotely to a teacher. 

According to Leevi, his and Izzy’s days of going to school must have been one huge adventure with lots of excitement while they teased teachers and schoolmates, almost missed deadlines, and barely finished assignments. Instead, they had been insanely popular with all their classmates, and Izzy had had a huge crush on some guy named Edvin. Who was already dead because of some disease he’d had suffered from. 

Izzy, as was usual for him, didn’t contribute much. He nodded and agreed and said stuff like “yeah, I think I remember”, but didn’t provide any exciting anecdotes himself. 

Axl had a million questions he would have liked to ask, but, of course, he was not allowed. 

Over the course of the days, more people had started to talk to them, and whatever they said raised more and more questions. 

For example, how did Izzy feel about the death of his mother? He hadn’t seen her in years and he didn’t let on much, but whenever she was brought up, he got a hard streak around his mouth, as if it cost him to keep his emotions inside. Yet he refused to talk about her at all. In case somebody brought her up, he simply changed the topic. 

And was the relationship between him and his father normal for a human family? Or had his father once been like some of the other men around, who laughed and played with their children? Families in movies were either overly affectionate or hated each other’s guts. Things between Izzy and his father were different. If they interacted at all outside the office only Duff was allowed in, then it was formal and distant. As if Izzy was his employee and not his son. Axl had always wondered what it would feel like to have parents, but he started to wonder if he hadn’t been lucky to miss out on that special pleasure. 

Right now, they were in some type of sitting room. Izzy had just returned from another never-ending meeting with his father and looked pretty fed up with the world around him. Duff sat next to him, staring at his feet. Duff was worse off than Axl himself because Izzy’s room was wired. It meant Duff wasn’t even allowed to let off some steam when the door closed but had to stay in role all the fucking time. Axl had no idea how he managed. 

Izzy was in no mood to talk and Slash was hardly one to carry a conversation all on his own. So they all sat in mute silence until Aino joined them. Aino and Izzy spent lots of time together in their attempt to appear couply, and, strangely enough, ever since they had started to work towards the same goal, they got along well. Axl was not sure what to think about that. It definitely made him feel even more pity for Duff. 

“My fertility test is back,” she said while plopping down next to Izzy.

Izzy made an automatic movement away from her and into Duff’s direction but caught himself in time. 

“The happy day is in five days and we’re supposed to try at least three days in a row, one before, one after, and more if we feel up to it. If not, it doesn’t matter because chances will dwindle to zero anyway.”

She flopped back into the upholstery. 

“I’m trying to show my joy here,” Izzy replied, looking just as glum as before. 

“No need to feel joyful, just ready to do your duty!” She sat up straight again. “You too, Duff. In case you were not informed, your master needs your help to rise to the occasion.”

“I know,” Duff replied, looking even more glum than Izzy. 

“Guys, I start to feel offended,” Aino said with a smirk. “Anyway, Izzy, you’re due to have your swimmers counted first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe take it easy tonight.” 

If anything, Izzy looked even more unhappy at that prospect, whether about the examination or about staying abstinent, Axl couldn’t say. 

“Oh, and Jari sends his regards. He’s free tomorrow, and if Axl still wants to see the greenhouse, he’s happy to show it to him.”

“What?!” Izzy and Slash exclaimed in unison. 

“Apparently you two talked about it?” Aino asked. 

“In passing,” Axl said. “I’ve never seen food plants.”

“I’m astounded,” Izzy said. “The sacrifices you are willing to make for the sake of seeing plants.”

Axl would have liked to make a rude gesture, but that was out of the question, of course. 

“I said Duff would like to see it, too,” he said instead. 

“Would you?” Izzy asked and Duff, suddenly perking up, nodded. 

“OK,” Izzy rubbed his neck. “If you two want to go together, I’m fine with it. Maybe Youla can go with you. I definitely won’t have the time. And if things turn out as planned, Slash won’t either.”

“I won’t?”

“I insisted that you need to check the engine room on the XXG. It’s an old ship after all, and it can’t be left unsupervised for long. So, in order to keep her from blowing up, you will likely be allowed to do maintenance, starting tomorrow. And you can take Axl along. Like this, we’ll have at least you two back on board. You still have to sleep here, though, but … yeah. Small steps. I’m working on the rest of us.”

Axl was torn. On the one hand, it would be awesome to get back on the ship, on the other hand, he really wanted to see the greenhouse. 

“Can we still have a look?” Duff asked. “At the plants?”

“Yeah, sure.” Izzy briefly closed his eyes. “I’ll talk to Youla.”

+++

So far, Izzy had been sure that he was the only one losing his mind, but apparently the others were following close on his heels. Axl wanted to go on an outing with Jari. To look at apple trees. He gave Axl a last glance to make sure this wasn’t some kind of joke, but it apparently wasn’t and so he returned to the matter at hand: hiding is rampant infertility. 

He was not surprised that he would have to go to the labs and come into a cup. The problem was rather, how to avoid delivering his own, sperm-free spunk for examination? His main hope was that nobody would really bother to check that it was his, so bringing some of Duff’s output along would hopefully solve the problem. If Duff’s countless siblings were any indication, his family was fertile beyond what was good for them. It should make up for his own lack in that area. 

His aim for success was to deliver a nice, healthy, but not too healthy, mixture. There would be some bemoaning of the low sperm count, but it would still be enough to not raise suspicions. Hopefully.

Even if there was a genetic check, he might be lucky. Due to his modified genes, his specific markers were all on file and just checking that they were there was a lot faster than doing complete analysis. Hopefully, nobody would find out that the cells who gave a positive were not those who were still able to move around. 

For now, he needed to talk to Duff. Alone. Somewhere. Not because there was anything important to discuss, but because he missed it like hell. Duff played his role perfectly: grateful, sweet, devoted, and utterly naïve. 

But playing his role also meant, he was quiet all the fucking time. No banter, no laughter, no playful bossing around, just perfect subservience. Why was it fun when it was a game, and disgusting when their lives depended on it? Not even during his first days had Duff been this submissive, and, fuck, he hated it. 

“Come on,” he said, and, not caring that he was supposed to spend the evening with his lovely wife, took Duff’s hand and pulled him up. 

Duff didn’t ask, he just followed. Like he had done over the fucking past five days. 

“Where’re you going?” Aino called after him. 

Yes, they were supposed to spend time together, yes it was expected of him to at least try to be a loving husband, and, no, right now he didn’t care one bit. 

“Indulging my vices,” he said and dragged Duff along and out of the room. 

“Does that mean, we are we going to have sex?” Duff asked softly when they were alone for half a minute. He only spoke softly anymore, Izzy noticed, afraid to be overheard all the fucking time. 

“Nope. That wouldn’t be a vice, but just expected use of my bed slave.”

“Then what…,” Duff broke off when somebody came down the corridor. 

“You heard it the other day. I was accused today of being infatuated with you,” Izzy said and marched on, Duff’s hand still firmly in his. 

“Is that really a problem?” Duff asked when they were alone again. 

“Not really.” They entered an elevator and Izzy punched in the number of the top floor. “It is frowned upon because you have to be a total loser if you can’t maintain a meaningful relationship with somebody you didn’t have to buy.”

“Oh,” Duff said. “I see.” He looked a bit crestfallen at that. “Maybe I can …”

“Nope,” Izzy interrupted him. “I don’t care. It’s nowhere written in my contract as dutiful son that I can’t be a total loser if I want to be. So, let the old man be as embarrassed as he wants to. I’ll stay infatuated with you. And I’ll be extremely infatuated with you for the rest of the evening. And here we are.”

They stepped out and to Izzy’s relief, the area was almost empty. 

“Oh my!” Duff exclaimed, forgetting for a second that he was supposed to be meek and quiet. 

Izzy had to agree. It was even more beautiful than he remembered and when he had been released to visit most public areas of the mothership again, he had immediately decided that he would have to show Duff this place. 

“That’s so awesome,” Duff breathed. 

It was an observation deck, a huge area under a glass dome that allowed 360° view into open space. Izzy had come here often, mainly for taking photographs, but also because he had loved the vibe it gave off as if one was floating between the stars. 

“Come, we’ll look for an empty place,” he said. 

There were no lights, to allow for a better view, just the usual emergency strips, but here they came on only for a few seconds if somebody walked past them. Apart from that, the room was absolutely dark. It was also the reason why the dome was very popular with couples. 

They found a quiet corner, far away from everybody else. Izzy sat down on one of the couches and pulled Duff almost into his lap. Duff settled, head on his shoulder, tense for the moment, but when he realized, that they were invisible in the darkness, he relaxed. 

“Thanks,” Duff whispered close to his ear. “This is … wow.”

Izzy brushed his hand up and down Duff’s arm, while they looked out into space. Had he really complained not so long ago about too much cuddling? Now that they couldn’t do it on a whim, he was sure he was developing a medically relevant deficiency.

“Goral should be in this direction,” Izzy replied equally low. “But I wanted a chance to talk to you. How are you holding up?”

“I’m Ok,” Duff said. “Really, don’t worry about me.”

It was the expected reply, but Izzy still worried. 

“Bit much sex for the camera, huh?”

“A bit,” Duff agreed. “Why do you do that? I mean, nobody has to have sex every night.”

“To make it boring,” Izzy replied. “I want them to stop looking too closely at whatever I’m doing. So I try to be boring and repetitive.”

“Boring?” Duff asked upset. “I think the word you’re looking for is obnoxious.”

“That, too,” Izzy admitted. “But if it’s really too much, we can stop.”

“No, I can manage. Do you really have to … I mean … with her?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid I’ll have to,” Izzy admitted, more to himself than to Duff. “Fucking camera. I had hoped we could fake it, but …yeah. You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Yes, I am,” Duff said, but if he felt angry, then his voice didn’t betray it. “But I know that there’s no point.”

“Is it better or worse that you have to be there?”

Duff sighed. “Doesn’t really make a difference. She has seen me suck you off before. ‘cause I assume that’s what I’ll do, right?”

“Yes,” Izzy pulled him a little closer. “If you manage to get me really close, I can be done with her within five minutes.”

“But she gets to make you come, not me.”

“Nope,” Izzy said. “It will be you. ‘cause I’ll close my eyes and in my mind, it will be you.”

Duff snorted. “She’s your wife, Izzy.”

“And?” Izzy kissed Duff’s jawline before he nibbled tenderly at his neck. 

“She’s your wife, she’s free, she is a part of your people. She’s who everybody wants you to be with. She’s clever, she’s gorgeous, and …

“… and she’s not what I want. She may be the woman I married, but you’re the man I chose. What is more important?”

“Don’t make me get all sappy here,” Duff muttered while leaning into the caresses. 

“You have no reason to be jealous, Duff,” Izzy insisted. “No reason at all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Duff mumbled. “Just feeling whiny, I suppose.”

“That’s OK. I’m feeling whiny, too. But back to more important things. I need a sperm sample from you tomorrow morning. Make sure you can provide one, or we’ll be in trouble.” 

He briefly explained the reason for his request. 

“You are aware that pressure is not good for my general performance, do you?”

Izzy grinned against Duff’s neck. “So far you perform well under pressure. Outstanding, I’d say.”

Duff groaned. “I was right,” he mumbled. “The word you were looking for is obnoxious.”

“And you love it,” Izzy replied.

“I do.” 

“So, tomorrow you and Axl will go and admire the scenery with Jari. Did I miss something?”

“Do you have the slightest idea of how boring our life is? Mine and Axl’s? Sitting around all day without anything to do at all? Honestly, I would go sightseeing with your Dad, if he offered.”

Izzy snorted. “That wouldn’t do anything to relieve your boredom, believe me. Things should look up for Axl if he can return to the XXG. I’ll try to get you on the ship, too, Duff, I promise. But it will take longer because you’re closer to me.”

He felt Duff’s head shift and was sure he tried to look at him through the darkness. 

“You’re not planning to have us go without you, are you?”

Izzy hesitated. He had no idea when – if ever – he would be allowed back on board. 

“It might be a good idea to send you ahead,” he said carefully. 

“Nope.” Duff’s head moved against him in something that had to be a violent shaking. 

“Duff …”

“Not gonna happen, Izzy. You can send Slash and Axl ahead if they want to, but I’m not gonna leave you alone in prison. Never. And you can’t sway me, cause: my decision.”

“Stupid decision.”

“That’s what you always say if I make one.”

“Yeah, ‘cause most of the time they are stupid.

“But they are mine. And, anyway, the others won’t go either.”

Izzy wasn’t so sure. There was no sense in keeping them all stuck in hell. 

“Anyway, Jari. I want an explanation.”

“You assigned him to my shift,” Duff replied. 

“Yeah. Sorry for that, but I had to keep him away from Axl.”

“I think we get along somehow. I mean, we’ll never be best friends or anything, but he’s making an effort. I think he realized that me and Axl, that we are actually people.”

Izzy snorted, but he was not surprised. Everybody got along with Duff somehow. 

“And he was pretty shocked by Axl’s scars and what transpired during customs check on Tarui. He said something to me afterwards. About how he understood now, why Axl didn’t want to be touched. Although I think he still didn’t get that you just don’t go around and grope random people’s asses in general. I tried to explain it to him, but I’m not sure he got it. He’s really a bit stupid, isn’t he?” 

“Hm,” Izzy made. 

Somehow it did make sense. One had to be a monster to not be affected by the visible evidence of the atrocities Axl had lived through. And Jari was an asshole and a bully, and, yes, he was stupid, but he was no monster. 

“Still, take care,” Izzy said. “Keep an eye on Axl. Doesn’t make me exactly happy to have him run around with Jari while I’ll be stuck in a conference room with the whole fucking council, tomorrow. Should something happen, I won’t be able to help you guys out. If I come running out of a meeting, just to rescue my slave … let’s say, being overly infatuated with you might be permissible, but that would be a disaster.”

Duff nodded. “What are you talking about? All about … you know?”

“No. That’s always part of it, of course, but, no. The old man wants me to take more responsibility. You heard it. And as that’s a good way to gain more freedom, more access to everything, I am doing it, of course. But it’s tedious. Lots of politics and I’ve never been good at that. Not even before I became the wayward son. Part of the reason why he’s so unhappy with me. Always thought I would follow after him when all I wanted to do is see the galaxy. He did let me do quite a bit of travel with the traders, of course, but he always sold it as ‘learning the business’ or something like that. I guess he hoped I would grow out of it, eventually. Looks like I never did.”

“You said your father was pretty high on the social ladder,” Duff said while Izzy contently nuzzled at his throat. Fuck, he could do this all day long. “How high? I mean, will the council listen to him?”

“Let’s say…,” Izzy sighed. “When I left, he was second in command.”

“And now?”

“Yeah, the commander I still remember died in the meanwhile. And now my Dad is the commander.”

“You mean…!” Duff sat up straight and Izzy was sure, if there had been light enough, he would have seen the shock on his face. “I thought that was just some title. You mean your Dad….”

“Rules the whole fucking mothership. Yeah.”

Duff slumped back into the couch again, wheezing softly. 

“It’s not important,” Izzy said. “If anything, it might help us a bit. As you can imagine, the council is not that happy to just take me back and pretend nothing has happened. They are all for some sort of punishment. But no matter how much he pretends that he’s able to keep his … ehm … emotional distance, I’m his son. He doesn’t really manage to cut me off. Was always like this. To be honest, it’s what I have been counting on.”

He pulled Duff back against him, not really willing to discuss this in more detail. 

“You know what this makes you right?” Duff whispered, and Izzy felt him grin against his neck. 

“A spoiled wayward son?”

“It means you’re Prince Izzy.”

Izzy chuckled. “Nothing hereditary about titles here. The only thing we’re doing right.”

That at least they had understood, not when half of the population had an IQ that was below the size of their shoes. It was also the reason why his father had always been so strict about pretty much everything. If he wanted his son to follow in his footsteps, then he had to make sure said son was up to it. That ship had long sailed, of course, but the old man just couldn’t stop pushing him up the ladder as much as possible. Maybe things would have been less dire between them if he had been allowed to just spend his days tinkering with engines and cruise around between planets. 

“Yeah, you are,” Duff insisted. “Do I get to call you that?”

“Try, and I might have to punish you,” Izzy replied. 

After that they were silent for a while and just looked out of the windows, Duff amusing himself silently with his non-existing princeliness. 

“I’m sorry about your Mom,” Duff suddenly said. “I wanted to tell you so before, but I didn’t want to say something that might get you … you know … upset. In front of others. Or the camera. Thought you might have a hard enough time to handle everything as it is. With your Dad always telling you to not be emotional. But I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah,” Izzy replied. “Me too.” 

“If I can do anything … although I don’t know what, with how little I can do here….”

“It’s OK, Duff. I haven’t seen her in such a long time.”

He tried not to think about it for exactly the same reason Duff had mentioned. He couldn’t afford to lose control, not even for a minute. Because if he started to cry, then he would do so at Duff’s shoulder and Duff wouldn’t have it in himself to not comfort him in a way no slave should employ towards his master. And that couldn’t be happening. 

Therefore, he did what he had always done, pretended to not be overly affected, to not feel, to not lose his cool, not even over the death of his mother. There would eventually be the time for an emotional breakdown, and when that time came, he would have one in style. But not now. And not for a very long time, if things should move on as slow as they were doing now.


	50. Sight Seeing

The next morning, Izzy made sure he was down in the labs early. He was not keen on running into too many people. Eskil, their head scientist, was there when he arrived. Izzy had been under scientific scrutinize since his birth and so they had already been well acquainted when Eskil had still been a lab assistant. 

“Morning,” Izzy muttered. “I was told my presence was requested.”

Eskil grinned. “I hope you didn’t take care of your morning wood yet.”

“Somehow it dwindled all on its own the moment I saw your face.”

“Then look elsewhere.” Eskil tossed him a plastic cup. “Get it done.”

“Where …,”

“Here. In front of me. Because I’m not to trust you to … no idea what they think you might do.”

“You…are gonna watch me … wank into a cup?” Izzy asked. “And you expect me to actually manage?”

“I expect you to get off on it,” Eskil retorted. “How about I go and look into the microscope? How long will you need? Looking into the microscope is exhausting. No pressure, of course.”

“With you in the room? Until doom’s day,” Izzy replied. “Get used to seeing the world in great detail.”

In the end, he turned his back on Eskil who was kind enough to do … whatever. It was at least sufficient privacy to mix his sample with Duff’s before he handed it over. 

“Wanna wait for the verdict?” Eskil asked and injected a syringe full into the cell counting machine. Won’t take long.”

Izzy nodded. He knew the drill, he had started doing it after his first wet dream. He planted his backside onto the laboratory bench and let his gaze sweep over the technical equipment while Eskil returned to his computer terminal. They could give any university lab a run for their money, he knew. 

Here they developed drugs tailored to their specific needs, painkillers, and antibiotics that actually worked for them, but sadly couldn’t be bought anywhere. Little luxuries he had missed them terribly over the last years. Maybe he could stock up before they left. Yeah, not likely. 

Of course, reproductive medicine was a huge part of their research in general. It still seemed to be utterly pointless to Izzy, because all they had to do was allow marriage outside their community. Fuck, they had enough genetic material available from the slaves they brought in. They should be able to regenerate their genetic pool within a generation. But, no, wasn’t done, of course. Who cared about science when one could have ideology?

“I need your help,” Izzy said after a few minutes. 

“Sure.” Eskil looked up from the screen and joined him at the bench. 

Izzy pulled a small vial out of his pocket and handed it over. 

“Can you analyze this for me?” 

“Sure. What is it?” 

“Assemblee antidote.”

Eskil gave him a hard look. “That’s illegal.”

“I know.”

“Very illegal, Jeff. It’s considered industrial espionage.”

“Yes, I know.”

Eskil sighed. “Explain to me what it is about? Or do you expect me to take the risk just for the fun of it?”

“I know you. It would be fun.”

“Definitely. Wouldn’t even know how to get my hands on this shit, leave alone have a chance to analyse it. So where did you … ehm… find it? Happened to fall off some transport to some type of slave compound?”

“Bought all legally, don’t worry. One of my slaves, the redhead, he’s an assemblee.”

“A … wow.”

“Yeah. Keep it to yourself, OK? Anyway, as the old man so kindly reminded me: I won’t get off the mothership anytime soon, so there’s no way I can stock up and keep him supplied.”

“Yeah, that’s a bit of a predicament.”

“A bit. Will you do it?”

Eskil shrugged. “And keep the lid on it, I suppose?” 

“Would be nice.”

“You haven’t changed at all, Jeff, do you know that? Still not giving anything away that hasn’t been dragged out of you by the use of red-hot tongs.”

Izzy cocked his head. “Did you expect me to?”

“Not really.”

“So will you?”

“Yeah, will do. But analysing it won’t be enough. You’ll need me to produce it next.”

“Might happen.” Izzy smiled a little. 

“Will happen. As I said, I’ll do my best.” 

Eskil put the vial into the fridge and turned towards the counter. 

“Here we go,” he said and read through the results. 

Izzy held his breath. 

“Hm.”

“Good or bad?” 

“Let’s say… you’ve always been rather mediocre, but you’ve gotten worse. Which sucks. We had all hoped this wouldn’t happen to you.” 

Izzy shrugged. “And now?”

Eskil gave him a sharp look. “What is this bullshit about you and no women?”

“You heard about it?” 

“Yes, because I suggested to help you two along a bit. And then the old man tells me this nonsense about how his only son is even more wayward than he thought and how Aino and you need to have copious real sex to give her time to use her female wiles and convince you otherwise. As if that would work if you were really strictly into men. And what even for? Who even cares if you’re the couple of the century or not, as long as you provide the coveted offspring?” 

“Don’t ask me,” Izzy replied. “So, how are the chances for a fruitful coupling?”

“Not very high, sorry to say. Which is … fuck, you really should be better. Where have you been during these last years? Any unsavoury planets?”

‘Tarui,’ Izzy thought. Nothing could be more unsavoury than that.

“Attracted any ominous diseases? Got into any radiation accidents? Anything that can explain this disaster?”

Izzy shrugged. “I didn’t exactly have my precious fertility in mind while trying to make a living.”

“Yeah, you should have. Guess I’ll have to attack Aino with hormone shots.”

“She’ll survive.”

“Hopefully. But she’ll have horrible mood swings and if you’re not on best terms now… Not my problem, I guess. Problems, which reminds me, the old man said something about your back?”

“That’s all taken care of,” Izzy replied. 

“Let me at least have a look.” 

“Nope.” 

“Jeffrey!” 

“What for? It’s healed, it’s under control.”

“Let me have a fucking look.”

“No!”

“You want me to analyse the sample for you.”

Izzy gave him an incredulous look. “Are you really using that against me?”

“You know me. Would I do something like that?”

“Yeah, absolutely!”

Izzy sighed and hopped off the bench before pulling his shirt over his head. 

“Wow.” Eskil put a hand onto his back and felt over the scars. “That’s the worst skin graft job I’ve ever seen in my life. But it seems under control. Somebody is doing a good job here. Anyway, Venla could redo it properly, if you want her to. She’s in charge now, you know. Of the whole medical team. But would have you out of commission for at least … uhm … two weeks? So maybe wait until after the big day.”

For a second or two Izzy really considered having the skin scraped off his back to get out of sex with Aino. 

“No, thanks,” he said instead. “Can I get dressed or are there any more areas of me you want to get your hands on?”

“Given your abysmal sperm count, there are a lot of areas I would like to have a look at. But won’t really change anything, so, for now, I’ll give you a break. It’s just a bummer, I suppose. Get dressed before I get ideas.”

He gave him a slap onto his ass and Izzy cast him a dark look over his shoulder. 

“You’ll let me know? About the shots?”

“Give me a couple of days. I’m sure I can come up with something. This stuff can’t be overly complicated. Would be helpful if I could also get some blood from your assemblee. Not just a small sample, more like … uhm … a pint or so. To isolate the toxin itself. Maybe more, if he can spare it. Would be a joke, if I can’t come up with a way to neutralize it.”

“I’ll send him over,” Izzy said, hoping Axl would go along with it. Having some stranger draw blood might be a bit much. But as they would be here for longer than they had hoped for, they could just as well use their time a bit more productively. 

+++

Duff was nervous when Jari came to pick him and Axl up for the greenhouse tour. Not because of Jari, but because of Youla. She had been nice each time he came into the kitchen and picked up their food, but she was also part of the ‘other side’ and he had to take care to keep in role. It was easier, somehow, when Izzy was around because all he had to do then was sit around and wait for orders. Now he had to decide how to act. 

Youla waited for them at one of the elevators, and Duff noticed that Axl was getting nervous, too. He was fidgeting, playing with his bracelet, his look darting from one of them to the next every other second. Axl was not used to dealing with strangers at all and Duff was sure, if it was difficult for himself, then it would be infinitely worse for Axl. 

The greenhouse, it turned out, was not exactly around the corner, and again Duff was amazed at how huge this ship was. They walked through endless corridors, past doors, and more doors and through open spaces full of people. Then they boarded some kind of shuttle, a little cubicle that was running within some rail system across the ceiling above people’s heads. Duff looked down curiously when the crossed what looked like some huge shop floor, full of engines and machinery. 

“I suppose the mechanic shops would be more interesting for you,” Youla said when she noticed his fascination, “but I’m afraid they won’t let you in there. At least not at the moment. Maybe once everything has settled a bit.”

“No, actually …” Duff startled, checking if it was OK to answer or if she was just telling him stuff and expected him to listen silently. “I’d really like to see the plants. I do most of the cooking on the ship. With Axl,” he quickly added. 

“Really?” Youla perked up. 

“Yeah, but I’m not as good as you guys here.”

“Duff is very good,” Axl said. 

“He is,” Jari confirmed. 

Duff tried to look modest but was sure he didn’t manage. Yes, he knew he was good, but eating the local food had made him feel like a total beginner. He now understood where Izzy’s penchant for real food came from. Just the idea to keep such a large community fed on such a high level was mind-boggling. How did they manage? 

And everything tasted just a little bit different than he would have expected as if they were adding things that absolutely had to be added, only he had no idea what it was. It tasted similar to the artificial flavours, yet completely different once he started to let it linger on his tongue. Once they left they absolutely, urgently needed to add whatever it was to their shopping lists. 

“I thought,” he started again, “I thought maybe I could help out in the kitchen? When Izzy doesn’t need me?”

“Oh, you’d have to ask him, not me,” Youla said. 

Duff tried to gauge if this was a polite way of telling him ‘no’. Not that she had to be polite, of course, but for whatever reason she was. 

“If Jeff agrees, sure,” she added. And then she laughed. “I still can’t get over it that you guys call him ‘Izzy’. I mean, we’d all be ‘Izzy’, the whole ship. We have all the same last name after all.”

Duff had no reply for that. For a long time, he hadn’t even known Izzy’s real name. He had introduced himself as ‘Izzy’ and so he had assumed that was his name. 

Eventually, they reached their destination. It turned out that the greenhouse ran across two complete floors and was sealed off by a double set of heavy doors. 

“You have to disinfect first,” Youla said and pointed towards a decontamination chamber after the first gate. “Always. Even if you think, you just had. If we drag any diseases in here, that might destroy our complete food supply, so never, ever take any chances here.”

They went in one by one and got dusted in disinfectant powder. Then they had to wait for five minutes before they were allowed to shake it off. Axl sneezed and wrinkled his nose. He probably knew the smell from the slave camp. Duff at least had less than fond memories of the daily disinfection he had been forced through. At least the stuff here seemed to be less aggressive than the product used in the camps. After a few weeks, his eyes had been constantly burning and his nose had leaked as if he had been hit by an eternal cold. 

When they were sufficiently decontaminated, Youla opened the second door and Duff made almost made a step back. There were trees. Of course, he knew what trees were he was not that stupid, but he had never seen so many. Pitraria had a few of them, in public places for example, where they grew in huge planters, but his home quarter was pretty much devoid of any plants. The desert around his hometown was not exactly conducive to fruit production either, and the only trees out there were scraggly and grew hardly over his head. 

Here, however, they were tall, with wide sweeping branches and lush, green foliage. 

“First section is the fruit trees,” Youla said. 

“Can I touch?” Duff asked, a little breathless. 

“Sure, go ahead.”

And so Duff touched leaves and bark and, yes, fruits. There were apples hanging from the trees, and pears, and others he didn’t even know. 

“We try to have them produce year-round,” Youla explained. “Not the way they normally do, which is once per year. Here, this might be something you don’t know as real fruit.”

She picked something small and red from a tree and handed one to each of them. 

“What cherries?” Jari asked and popped his into his mouth. 

“They don’t store well, so unless they can be produced locally, you usually can’t buy them.” 

“This is how cherries look?” 

Duff carefully placed his onto his tongue, while Axl was still sniffing it. 

“Pussy,” he whispered with a grin. 

Axl glared at him before he took a deep breath and swallowed the cherry without even chewing. 

Duff tried to keep it in his mouth as long as possible. The outside was smooth and even. Carefully he punched a hole into it and sweet juice ran over his tongue. 

“Careful, there’s a pit in the middle.” Jari spat something into a nearby group of shrubs. 

“A what?” Axl exclaimed and accusingly turned towards Youla. “You said I should eat it!”

“It’s not a problem if you swallowed it,” Youla quickly tried to calm him. 

Axl still glared at her and Duff feared that he would blow their cover within the next five minutes. Maybe it would be better to not have him try any more unknown food. 

But he did not have the time to take care of Axl’s indiscretions, he still had to investigate the cherry in his mouth. He tried to chew a little without fully destroying it and discovered the pit. 

“It doesn’t really taste like cherry,” he said while trying to figure out how it was tasting. “A bit, but not really.”

“All cherries taste like this,” Jari said. “Except the sour ones. Those are sour.”

“You’re used to artificial flavours,” Youla explained. “Those come close but are not identical. This is the real deal. Is it better or worse?”

“Better,” Duff said.

“Worse,” Axl did at the same time. 

“How do the sour ones taste?” Duff asked when instead he should have politely thanked Youla for her generosity and kept his trap shut for the rest of the tour. 

“Pick one,” Jari said. “That tree, over there.”

“What, myself?” Duff exclaimed. “Can I? Really?”

OK, he couldn’t blame only Axl. He was merrily blowing their cover all on his own. Either that or soon Izzy would be accused once more of owning the worst behaved slave in the entire galaxy. 

Youla nodded. “One is OK. We shouldn’t just come here and eat tons of everything, because we have to make sure everybody gets some, but, yes, one or two is fine.”

The sour cherries looked a bit different and when Duff carefully pulled one off the tree, it stained his fingers red. It was indeed sour, he soon found out, so sour in fact, that he pulled his face a little. 

Jari laughed. “Told you, they’re sour. You have to put sugar on them.”

“They’re good for pie,” Youla said. 

“We only have cookies,” Axl let her know. “Never pie. Duff likes cookies.”

“I’ve had pie,” Duff said. “Once. When I was working at the foodplace. It was after hours and when there were no clients, they had me clean the tables. Somebody had left a bit on his plate and when nobody was looking, I ate it. I was just curious.” 

He gave Youla an apologetic look, hoping she didn’t think he had been habitually stealing. Although he had if he was honest. And not only leftovers. Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind. 

After that, they ate lots of other fruits that Duff knew by name, but found out, tasted completely different than the artificial version he was used to. There were all the berries, for example. They came in black and blue and red. Then he got a peach. It was weird and fuzzy and for a moment Duff was not sure that he should just put it into this mouth as it was. But then he did and never regretted it. 

Axl had opted out after the cherry, but he was just as fascinated by all the things hanging off trees and shrubs and canes as Duff was. 

When they were done with the fruit trees, they moved on to vegetables. Those looked more familiar, as they knew tomatoes and peppers and zucchini. Unlike the fruits, vegetables, it turned out, grew a lot closer to the ground. 

“These are carrots,” Youla explained in front of long rows of pretty, feathery leaves. 

“When will they make some?” Duff asked, wondering how the delicate stems were supposed to carry something as heavy as a carrot. 

“They are already there.” 

“No!” Axl exclaimed in shock when Youla just pulled violently at one of the plants. “You’ll kill it!”

But she was already holding it into the air, and there was indeed a carrot at the end. 

“Roots,” she said. “They grow underground. Lots of food does. Potatoes, too.”

Axl still looked upset and Duff agreed with him. He really wasn’t sure they should kill plants, just to eat their roots. But carrots they had on the ship, too, and so even Axl was OK with trying one. 

And so, it went on. They were laughing and eating random stuff, and suddenly Duff realized that he had definitely blown his cover because he had completely forgotten that he was a slave. He tried several times to curb his behaviour back in, but it was useless. After days of total submission, he just didn’t manage. 

Youla didn’t seem to mind, at least. She was really nice, he thought, not just pretending because Izzy had asked her. But eventually, she started to look tired to Duff. 

“Should we go back?” he asked when he noticed that she was not only tired but that her gait seemed unstable. 

“A break would be nice,” she said. “We can take it over there.”

She pointed at a section that was full of little shrubs. Those looked a lot more like the desert plants he knew, tiny, silvery leaves, some creeping over rocky walls, some sporting pretty purple flowers. They sat down on one of the walls and after a moment, Duff couldn’t help but sniff the air. 

“What’s this smell?” he asked, confused. He looked at Axl, who was sniffing, too. 

“Oh, this?” Youla ran a hand through a little shrub with hairy, grey leaves, and the scent intensified. 

“Yes!” Duff exclaimed. He touched the shrub, then sniffed his fingers. “It’s awesome.”

“Sage,” she said. “This is the herb garden.”

“The…,” Duff caught his breath. “Herbs! You mean like … spices? Those herbs?”

“Ehm, yes?” Youla said, eyeing him a little careful as if she expected him to do something completely unpredictable at any moment. 

Axl started to laugh. “Duff is obsessed with herbs,” he said. “He always wonders how they would taste.”

“You have eaten them every day,” Youla replied. “I mean, we add them to pretty much every dish there is.”

“So that’s the strange taste!” Duff exclaimed. “I was wondering. And I was … do you have more? I mean, where are they? Which are which? Can I … I mean … can I try some. I mean, after you had a break, I mean.”

“Duff!” Axl exclaimed. “Calm down. You’re fucking hyperventilating.”

“Yes, sure,” Youla still eyed him a little worried. “There’s thyme and rosemary and over there…,” she pointed towards another patch, about a dozen steps away, “there’s parsley and peppermint and others that like it a bit cooler.”

“We need to build a greenhouse on the XXG,” Duff decided. “We have to convince Izzy.”

“Right,” Axl drawled. “And where should it go? Oh, yes, maybe we can get rid of the engine room.”

“We don’t need that many storage rooms!” Duff decided. “Really, we don’t. Or maybe we can build an extension.”

“An extension?” Jari now asked, looking confused, too now, when Duff thought his demands were absolutely reasonable. “On a spaceship?”

“Herbs don’t take up much space,” Youla said. “You’d only need a plant light.”

“See!” Duff knew it would be possible 

“We can take cuttings. But I don’t think it will really be worth it, I mean, it’s not like you’ll go anywhere anytime soon, right?”

“Oh!” Duff suddenly remembered that Izzy was supposed to be of the down settling and family founding type. “No. Probably not.”

“You miss it, huh?” Youla gave him a sympathetic look. “The traveling?”

“Yeah,” Duff said, clutching at the lifeline she had unconsciously thrown into his direction. “I do.”

She nodded. “I never really got it, I have to admit. Which is strange, as traveling is what everybody loves and does all the time. But I never felt the need.” She got up. “OK, I think I’m good again. We can pick a few herbs and I show you how to use them, OK? And we can still take a few cuttings for you. Maybe Jeff will travel again in a few years. And then you’ll have them ready to take with you.”

“That would be awesome!” Duff said. “Thank you.”

+++

Later that day Izzy stared confused at the box full of tiny pots with tiny sprigs that he had put under a purple-coloured lamp onto the desk in Izzy’s childhood room. 

Then he chuckled to himself, grabbed Duff by the collar of his shirt, pulled him in, and kissed him. And for the first time in days, Duff had the feeling that it wasn’t for the benefit of the camera.


	51. The Scientific Approach

Water supplies. Izzy had spent days discussing the freaking water supply system. He was good at water supply. Fuck that, he was awesome at water supply. The XXG was not made for the type of long-distance travel he tickled out of her. She had very limited water resources, and he had always managed to keep them sufficiently supplied, no matter how long their trips had been. Mainly by tinkering around with Slash to reduce overall usage and improve the recycling systems. 

Over the last days, he had tried to replicate some of that at a larger scale and come up with a concept to refurbish a supply system that had already been outdated when he had still been a teenager. When he was done, he was almost proud of himself. 

Sadly, nobody cared for his ideas. He was running against a concrete wall of ‘we always did it like this’ and ‘you haven’t been here for ages. How would you even know’? 

How would he know? Because it was a question of simple engineering, and not of politics! But, just like one didn’t need science when one had ideology, one also didn’t need engineering when one had politics. 

It shouldn’t bother him. He would hopefully leave soon, so why the fuck did he even try to come up with a solution to a problem that had nothing to do with him? Because he had always been a sucker for these idiots that were his family, that’s why. No matter how much he told himself that he had cut himself off, he couldn’t help it. He was already starting to feel responsible for the whole fucking clan. Again. Because maybe Slash was really right when he had accused him of the blasted C-word. 

He was feeling a headache looming behind his eyes when he dragged himself from the meeting room to one of the sitting rooms where he was due for a rendezvous with his lovely wife. As if he hadn’t suffered enough already. 

Duff was in the kitchen, and he would leave him there for the rest of the day. At first, he had been a bit unsure if it was a good idea to have him unsupervised for so much time, but it had its benefits. He was under less scrutinize, he actually got something to do besides sitting around and looking pretty, and his father was happy that the dreaded ‘infatuation’ was apparently easing off. 

All in all, Duff seemed to be more relaxed since he had started to help out with cooking and that alone was a good thing. 

Axl and Slash spent most of the time on the XXG. He had let them know the position of the cameras, but whatever they did when they were out of reach, was their personal business. He didn’t have time for them. Because he was dealing with the freaking water supply system. 

“We need to get out of here,” he said when he plopped down next to Aino on one of the couches. 

They planned all of their official meetings for times when they would be pretty much alone. Hopefully, it was considered ‘romantic’ and not as ‘we urgently need to discuss stuff without being overheard’. 

“And soon, because I’m losing my mind. What was even the next step of your plan?”

Maybe he had to leave the XXG behind. It would break his heart, but if Aino had some way to move forward, maybe they could tag along this time.

“I had hoped that something would come up,” she said. “But at the moment? Fuck, I didn’t expect them to put fucking cameras into our rooms.”

“Yeah, I did,” Izzy groused. “So your grand plan ends here? You and me and fertility treatment?”

“I had planned to hop on some bypassing trading ship. I know they don’t come often, but every now and then there is one. And they dock on here, too. At least they used to. I was sure I could at least get Lis and Mikah on one, even if I had to follow a bit later. But there hasn’t been anything at all.”

Izzy gave her a sour look. No, there hadn’t been one. She couldn’t know that, but traffic was handled mainly by an outpost now. Passing ships didn’t even touch the mothership anymore. It was a precaution that had been installed a few years ago, after some random trader had infected the mothership with a virus. Since then everything went through disinfection and quarantine and they were isolating themselves even more than they had before.

“What’s your girlfriend even doing?” he asked. “Not that I’m missing her, but I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“We thought it was best this way,” Aino said, looking unhappy. “If somebody finds out that Lis and me are together, that wouldn’t be good. So, she’s off, doing interviews with about half the population here. Not that they are telling her much.”

“What should they even tell her?” he asked. “Hardly anybody even crosses the border. Makes no sense. When some refugee is past it, they’re lost for us. Our business consists of catching them before they manage.”

‘Us,’ he thought. For a very long time, when he had thought about his clan it had been ‘them’. When had it turned to ‘us’ again? 

“Maybe we can convince somebody to fly us out,” Aino said. 

“How?” Izzy asked back. “By sleeping with them? Like last time?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t contradict him. So she had been thinking that way. 

“Sorry, Aino, but I don’t think anybody would even dare. Not the way things currently are. Was easier when I was out of the picture, now?” He shook his head. “Maybe you can get Lis to do it.”

“She’s not really the type for that,” Aino replied. 

So she had been thinking about that idea, too. 

“Yeah.” Izzy scratched his head. “Doesn’t leave us that many chances.”

It was too early to get desperate, but he wasn’t overly far away from it. He had led his whole crew into a dead-end street and they had followed him, all dewy-eyed and trusting in the bullshit he had told them. What had he even been thinking? 

The decision to go to Goral had been a selfish one, driven by his wish to set Duff free, and get the chance for a truly egalitarian relationship. Yeah, right. That was working out just splendidly. 

He wasn’t quite there yet, but if push came to shove, he knew what he had to do. He had managed to get permission for Slash and Axl to get onto the XXG already. He would get permission for Duff, too, he just had to wait a couple of days to make the two seem unconnected. And he had somebody on Axl’s problem. 

Once all those things were in place, they would simply have to go without him, no matter what Duff said. He would tell Slash to lock him up in one of the slave cupboards if he had to, but no way would Duff spend the rest of his life like this! 

+++

A few days later, Izzy stopped Slash and Axl after breakfast, when they were planning to go over to the ship for the day. All in all, he thought, Axl looked a bit calmer. His nervousness had started to become worrying until Izzy had wondered if he would lose it any time now. Having something to do over the course of the day was obviously helping. 

“I need to borrow Axl today,” he said. 

“What for?” Slash asked. 

Izzy sighed inwardly. They weren’t alone in the room and he couldn’t properly explain. That was the freaking problem, after all, so why didn’t Slash get it? They were never alone and if people refused to just play along, it made things infinitely more difficult. 

“What do you care? Last time I checked he was still my slave,” he snapped. “You only get to borrow him.”

Slash gave him an incredulous look. 

“Maybe we can just swap for the day?” Duff said softly. “I go with Slash?”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Izzy didn’t look at them, as if he considered the trade final. As Duff knew what this was about, he would be able to explain. 

“Axl?” He beckoned for him to follow. “Come on, we’re already late.”

Axl did follow, but the nervousness was back. 

“What is this about?” he asked, as soon as they were alone in an elevator. 

“Our scientist might come up for a solution to the toxin-problem.”

“Really?” Axl perked up. “Does that mean he knows what I am?” he then asked, suddenly subdued again. 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t mind. Actually, he’s pretty excited about it. We don’t have any artificials here at all because it’s so much hassle with all the licenses and shit. You can buy a human at every corner, but try to get an artificial, and you’re jumping through hoops all day long.”

“Should I feel special now?” Axl asked. “What, he wants to look at me because I’m so awesome?”

“He needs a blood sample from you. Or actually, quite a bit of blood. He might also want to check you over, I suppose. And I need you to keep still for it.”

“What will he do?” Axl asked nervously. “I mean…”

“I have no idea, Axl. He probably doesn’t have a real idea yet either. Which is why your presence is needed. He won’t hurt you, but he might ask to examine you in a bit more detail to get an idea. I will probably have to explain about the electrodes, too.”

“No!” Axl exclaimed. “I don’t want that.”

Izzy closed his eyes for a second. “Axl, please. I’m not asking this for kicks and giggles. If he can come up with a solution, that would be a huge step forward. Two years may seem long at the moment, but it really isn’t.”

Axl stayed stubbornly silent. 

“This is shit for all of us,” Izzy said, hoping he would get through to Axl before the elevator stopped. “Want to know what Duff had to do since we landed here?”

“Not really,” Axl muttered. 

“Then suck it the fuck up. I will stay, OK? I just … can’t hold your hand or something.”

“Phh,” Axl made. “You don’t have to.”

“Good. Does that mean you’ll allow it? The examination? Because if not, say so now. You can’t have a nervous breakdown in the middle of it. When you agree to start, you agree to finish.”

“Yes,” Axl said. “OK.”

Izzy hoped it was really OK. 

Eskil was in his lab. He was probably living in his lab. Sleeping for an hour now and then rolled up like a dog under the desk. Or maybe he was like Axl and didn’t sleep at all. Either seemed possible. 

“Jeff,” he said. “You brought him. Awesome.”

He turned to Axl who had his deer in the headlight expression ever since they had entered the laboratory. Axl’s look darted across the room, took in the equipment, and his nervousness increased by the minute. He had his experiences with laboratories. Those very few times when he had been allowed to leave the mines, he had been brought back to the factory to have his brain restarted. And then there was Erudino, of course. 

“Hi, I’m Eskil. Head of the lab here. I don’t think I got your name.”

“Axl,” Axl said. 

“Izzy gave you the gist? Of what we’ll be doing here?”

Axl nodded but didn’t really look at him. 

“Cool. Any questions you want answered before we start?”

A minuscule shake of the head was all the answer he got. 

“OK, then we’d better go into the examination room for this. It’s over there.”

He walked ahead and Izzy pushed Axl to follow. 

Eskil wasn’t responsible for the general medical treatment of the clan, that took place in another section. His specialty was research, mainly reproductive procedures, but he also had his fingers in everything that had to do with drug development. And he had the unhealthy habit to poke people with what he considered ‘interesting features’. In Izzy’s book ‘interesting features’ meant two heads or wings sprouting out of ones back, but Eskil was not that particular. One never knew what might pique his curiosity, but there hadn’t been any doubt that Axl would make him curious. 

Axl made a step back when he saw the stretcher. Izzy took him by the shoulder and unceremoniously pushed him forward again. 

“Be nice to him, Eskil. He had some bad experiences with labs, as you can imagine.”

“Oh, of course. Look, Axl, was it right?”

Axl nodded. 

“Right. I have never seen an assemblee in all my life, so getting one in my lab is kind of a big deal for me. Call it scientific interest. I know you won’t like to be prodded just to satisfy my curiosity, but maybe you can consider it as some kind of deal.”

“You’ll produce my shots,” Axl said. 

“Hopefully. I had a look at it,” he said to Izzy now. “Ran it through every single type of chromatograph I own, and I think I know what it is.”

“Really?” Izzy perked up. “That was fast.”

“Yeah, only not gonna really help us here.”

“Don’t tell me you can’t reproduce it,” Izzy said. That would be close to a disaster. Eskil was brilliant at what he was doing, if he was unable, then their chances to find somebody were dwindling rapidly. 

“Theoretically I could. But it contains Maridium.”

“No!” Izzy exclaimed. “No way, I mean, it’s only found on fucking Tarui.”

“I know where they are digging for it,” Axl said. “It’s just this really small site, not even a proper mine.”

Then Izzy saw him bite his lip. 

“You got him from Tarui?” Eskil gave him an astonished look. 

Izzy shrugged. “They had no use for him. I did.”

“Yeah, then you probably know,” Eskil said to Axl, “that Tarui is the only planet in the entire realm where Maridium is found. It’s a completely worthless metal, to be honest. I don’t know any specific purpose it might have. And I have the suspicion, they incorporated it into the antidote to make it impossible to reproduce without involving them. They do suck that way.”

“Is there a way to buy it?” Izzy asked. 

“No.” Eskil shook his head. “As I said, it’s useless. A few university labs have small amounts it in their stash, just because it’s an element and it’s rare and therefore interesting. But it has no industrial purpose at all. Unless, apparently, if you’re producing assemblee shots. Maybe you can buy small contingents with a special license.”

“Fuck!” Izzy exclaimed. He really needed to kick something. “What now?” 

He looked at Axl, but Axl just looked resigned. As if he had never believed that their plan would come to fruition anyway. 

“I have two ideas,” Eskil said. “One. I isolate the toxin. Out of Axl’s blood. Maybe I can clone the gene, then I can produce as much as I need without having to tap into him all the time. There must be a way to produce a different antidote. How much of this stuff do you still have? Can you weather a few months?”

“A few,” Izzy said. “Not that many.” 

If he had to, he would stay here for the next two years, but it couldn’t hurt to make the matter a little more pressing. 

“Or, two, which would be the more elegant solution: Once I have the toxin, I look for the gene that produces it and with a bit of luck we manage to switch it off.”

“Infinitely?” 

“Depends. If all cells carry the gene, then, no. In that case, producing a transcription blocker for the gene would be the easiest solution. You would have to administer it regularly, just like the shots he gets now.”

“But you can find it? The gene?”

“Sure. It will be a single gene. Something simple. Plus, it will be a gene that makes no physiological sense, so it shouldn’t be harmful if we just switch it off. Unless they put it into the middle of something vital and have it spliced out afterwards, then we’ll have a problem. But I don’t believe they would go through so much trouble. They ensured their monopole by making the drug impossible to copy, they won’t have gone for a complicated genetic setup.”

“How fast can you do that?”

“Impatient, huh?” Eskil sighed. “If the gene is in all cells? Rather fast. Only I doubt that. Assemblees are not bred, you would have to modify complete body parts. So once we have the DNA sequence, we need to find out where it is located. Personally, I would just put it into the blood building system. That would channel it through the whole body. And if that is the case, then, yes, then I can not only block transcription but should be able to cut it out for good. Which would be highly illegal, as you very well know.”

“OK,” Izzy said, hoping he wasn’t grasping at straws here. But, fuck, who was he kidding? The whole affair was grasping at straws. And highly illegal, as Eskil liked to remind him. “When do we start?”

“Now, of course.” Eskil grinned. He liked a good scientific puzzle. And he liked to do illegal things. “We start with the toxin itself and for that, I need some blood.”

“Ok,” Izzy said. “Axl?”

Hesitantly Axl sat down on the stretcher, pulled up his sleeve, and watched unhappily how the tip of the canula vanished in his arm. 

“I’m sorry for this, but we’ll need quite a bit of blood,” Eskil said. 

“How much?” Axl asked. 

“As much as we can get. To be honest, I’m close to suggesting a complete exchange.”

“Nope,” Izzy said. “Not gonna happen. You can have as much as Axl can spare now, not more. If you really need more, let me know. You only want extra to do additional research.”

“Would I do something like that?” Eskil asked, pretending to be insulted. “To be fair, it’s a very interesting toxin. Might be useful if we manage to reproduce it.”

“I don’t even want to know what for,” Izzy replied.

He looked at Axl, who watched with visibly growing discomfort how his blood ran through a tube into a bag. 

“Izzy?” he asked softly when the flow just wouldn’t stop.

“It’s OK.” 

Izzy stepped up next to him, trying to offer a bit of comfort without being too obvious about it. When Eskil turned around to do check something on his screen, he quickly squeezed Axl’s arm. 

“You can hold his hand, you know?” Eskil said without looking up. “I’m not the old man. I don’t care if you get infatuated with your slaves.”

“He talked to you?” Izzy asked. 

He came back over and picked up the bag, gauging its content. “I wouldn’t call it ‘talk’. He asked me about the likely timeframe for the arrival of his precious first grandchild and muttered a whole lot of complaints before and after it. OK, that’s enough.” 

He pulled the cannula out.

“You up for a scan? I’m honest, at this point in time, it’s just my curiosity. But I will likely have to take a closer look into you anyway, so … care to do it now?”

“Axl?” Izzy prompted. 

Axl cast him a panicked look. “What?” 

“Scan. Nothing invasive. If you do him the favour, he might be more inclined to find a solution to our … ehm … problem.”

For a moment, Izzy thought Axl would decline, but then he nodded. 

“Awesome!” Eskil got the scanner ready. “Lie on the stretcher. You can keep your clothes on if it makes you feel better.”

It made Axl feel a lot better and it showed. He actually stretched out without any further prompts. Not that it made any real sense because the scanner could be adjusted to whatever layer Eskil wanted, even if he felt the need to look into the gap between skin and cloth. And Axl knew that. 

“Alright, let’s see.”

The scanner was a lot bigger than the one they had onboard the XXG and Izzy was treated to a full picture of Axl’s maltreated ribcage. Eskil shifted it around looked at different areas, completely engrossed when all Izzy saw was bones and sinews and muscles and organs. Nothing any of them hadn’t hidden behind their skin. 

“See this?” Eskil suddenly said. “These three ribs don’t fit in with the rest. They are from a different body than the others. And here, see these lines here? That’s where the left lung was sealed in. They used histosealer, I’d say. That always leaves some traces. Oh, see here? The identification number.”

Izzy knew where it was, edged into the ulna. He had seen it before.

“And the chip. There.” He pointed at the spine. “It’s … a bit too far to the left. Not fully inserted. I think I could pull it out without leaving any damage.”

“Think,” Izzy said. Getting out the chip would be too good to be true, but some risks were a bit too high to take them. Complete paralysis was definitely one of those. 

“Yeah, think. You can never be sure this close to the spine. A bit of nerve tissue has grown around it, but not that much. Guess I could push it aside without separating anything. Hm. But then, why would you have a chip removed from a slave, huh?”

He gave Izzy a questioning look. Yeah, coming up with a reason for that would be tricky. 

“All in all….,” he moved the scanner around again and Izzy was treated to images of the rest of Axl’s body. “I’d say, four different bodies. No, five. No, four. Or five? The shoulder joints look uneven, but I can’t find any signs that they were attached. Does he have problems with luxation?”

“Yep. But that happened post activation,” Izzy said. “Is there something that can be done about it?”

Eskil frowned. “Not really. Maybe Venla has an idea. How often does it happen?”

“Not often, anymore. Last time was … uhm … three years ago.”

“Then leave it as it is. Should get less often, if … whatever caused the problem isn’t happening anymore.”

“It’s not,” Izzy confirmed. 

He didn’t know in detail what had been done to Axl, as he wouldn’t talk about it, but he had his ideas. 

“OK, let’s have a last look at … what the fuck is that?”

“Yeah, that,” Izzy said while looking at the metal probes in Axl’s brain. 

Axl, it seemed, knew what the surprise was about, too, and tensed. 

“That was already there. No idea what it’s used for. Doesn’t have any purpose as far as I know.”

“Looks like … Did you get electroshocks, Axl?”

“Sometimes,” Axl said. 

“What the hell for? Any specific purpose?”

“He doesn’t know,” Izzy quickly said. “Tarui. They don’t bother to inform anybody about anything, not even when they flood your brain with electricity. And, honestly, I don’t care. ‘cause it’s not gonna happen anymore.”

“Yeah. Want me to take them out, then?”

“Nope,” Izzy said. “They don’t bother him and I have no idea if maybe they do have a purpose. So I’ve decided to leave them where they are.”

Eskil shrugged. “Your decision.”

He removed the scanner and Axl sat up. 

“Thanks!” he said. “That was really interesting.”

Axl did not reply. 

“All right, Jeff, now you.”

Izzy gave him a bored look. He had expected the request. 

“What for?” he asked. 

“Because I want to find out how you managed to destroy your fucking fertility and whether there is something, I can do about it.”

“Yeah, not right now. I have this really urgent council meeting to attend.”

“Jeffrey!”

“Maybe some other time. Come on, Axl, as nice as it is down here, the waste disposal system won’t sort itself out on his own. See you later.”

When they were back in the elevator, Axl almost sacked against him. 

“You did great,” Izzy said. 

“It was OK. But this was the easy one, right?”

Izzy shrugged. “When we’re really doing this, then, yeah, the next one will likely be a bit more invasive. But there really shouldn’t be any pain. No matter what. ‘cause nobody will treat you just like some specimen, OK?”

“Why did you lie about the electrodes?”

“Because it doesn’t matter. Makes no difference to what we’re trying to do here.”

“Will he really help us?”

“Yeah, he will.”

“Why?” Axl gave him a suspicious look. “What’s in it for him? What does he want for it?”

Izzy chuckled. “He’s a scientist. Finding a solution to a puzzle is what keeps him going. And solving a forbidden one, that’s extra exciting. You can say against my people whatever you want, but we have one trait that plays out to our advantage. We may seem to abide by the rules of the realm, but only when it’s important to keep us out of trouble. This? Reversing one assemblee? That’s … I’d say a challenge. I admit he’s not going to do it for you, but just because it’s fun to find out if he can, but for us, the result will be the same. You’ll be rid of the toxin. Win-win.”

“Do you think it will really work out? That he can completely switch off the gene?”

“I have no idea,” Izzy admitted. “This is not really my area of expertise. But if somebody here is able to come with a solution, it’s him.”

“And you really trust him?” Axl wasn’t convinced, but there was not much Izzy could do to help him. 

“I don’t trust anybody,” he admitted. “But he has no reason to rat out on us. Like … he could easily get me ordered to let him do whatever examination he wants to do. And I wouldn’t be able to come up with any good reason to deny that.”

“Then why doesn’t he?”

“Because it’s not his style. He will keep pestering me about it and eventually, there will be an order, but not because Eskil asked for one, but because the old man will grow impatient. However, for the next months, we will be fine.”

“Months?” Axl asked, looking horrified. “Really, months?”

Izzy shrugged. “Hopefully not, but at the moment I’m a bit at a loss. Which is, why I have thought, we could at least try to sort out your problem. We won’t get a better chance.”

The elevator reached its destination and for lack of opportunities, Izzy delivered Axl to Slash’s room. The rest of the day he spent discussing the failures of their current recycling system and pretended to even give a fuck about it. 

+++

Axl sat on the bed, trying to get the cottony feeling out of his head. 

‘Why now?’ he thought desperately. He had been doing so good, they were at almost nine months without treatment. Why did it have to start now, when Izzy couldn’t get to the ship and do it?

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. What would happen if he went on a rampage here? Would they lock him up? Whip him? Shoot him? Would they make an exception because he was Izzy’s slave or would they go down extra hard on him for the same reason? 

There was no choice. Treatment was currently not an option, and so he had to keep it together. And he would. He could push it back. He had done it before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because the question comes up quite often: I can't yet say how many chapters there will be in the end. I'll add another note once I know, but so far I have written 55, and it's still not over.


	52. Anger Management

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, just a really short one today because it doesn't fit in with the next chapter. So it gets its own.

Slash was fuming. He was fuming and there was nothing he could do about it. Not until they had reached the ship and were in an area where there were no fucking cameras. Then he would not only fume, then he would blow his fucking cork. 

“Can you get past the fucking door?” he asked Duff when they reached the connection tunnel. 

About half a dozen connection tunnels went off from a circular area, which was supervised by two guards in a small room across from them. Today there were two women who looked almost identical. He had forgotten their names, and he didn’t care which Izzy-clone they were actually dealing with today, but they seemed to recognize him, for one of them gave him a lazy wave when she spotted him. 

“Yeah, since yesterday,” Duff replied. “Izzy invented some shit about some stuff I had to get. And they didn’t revoke my permission. They’re getting lazy.”

So another one of them was now able to get onto the ship. Fuck, they should just leave Izzy and the rest of the horde behind and make off for Goral all on their own. 

The gate opened and they walked over to the XXG. She looked lonely, Slash always thought, tethered to the fucking mothership like a puppy in front of a shop, waiting for her master to return. He opened the hatch, closed it behind Duff, and then he started to yell. 

“Who the fuck has been shitting into Izzy’s brain, huh? Why does he suddenly have to claim Axl back? What even for? I did my fucking best to keep him out of the public eye. I tried to make it clear that Izzy doesn’t care much about him, fuck that there was no obvious connection to Izzy except him being the fucking official owner, so why the fuck does he have to fucking destroy all that? And in such a fucking tone?”

Duff just stood and waited, his expression slightly puzzled, as if he was watching some interesting show or maybe some type of animal he had never seen before. 

“Are you done?” he asked when Slash was absolutely not done, but just at a loss for more words. “You are aware that this is all not real, right? Any of this, I mean?”

“What’s got that to do with anything?” Slash spat. 

“Izzy needed his slave, you denied him his slave. In front of others. What did you think he was supposed to say, huh? Pretty please?”

“Duff …”

“No,” Duff said. “My turn. Sorry, but Izzy’s having the hardest job of all of us here. He’s under constant surveillance and supervision and can’t even take a shit without somebody checking if he really needed the loo or just pretended to. You won’t give him any more trouble! Not for one minute, OK? He needed Axl because he’s gotten one of the scientists onto the fucking antidote. They needed some blood or whatever, and so he took him to the lab.”

“He could have said something,” Slash said, feeling a bit like an idiot, but not yet willing to back down. Maybe talking had never been Izzy’s forte, but since they were here, the information that drizzled down to him was non-existent. As if Izzy lived inside a bubble only Duff was now and then able to penetrate. 

And, anyway, lab or not, it should have been his job to take Axl. Because Axl would have been scared to have some scientist prod him. But did anybody think about that? No, of course not. Because as soon as things got a tiny bit difficult, it was Izzy again. Because, of course, Slash himself was too stupid to deal with Axl’s problems. That always took the master himself. 

“When should he have told you?” Duff asked, looking as belligerent as Slash felt. 

“Apparently he managed to tell you,” he shot back. 

“Under the fucking shower!” Duff yelled. “We have about five minutes per day where we can talk. That’s when he tells me shit like that. Sometimes he manages in a corridor or an elevator, or whenever we’re lucky and the fucking dining hall is half empty. But then I can’t even really reply or it will start looking like a conversation. Which he’s apparently not supposed to have with me, ‘cause he’s already getting shit for liking me too much.” 

He was still pissed. Shower or not, Izzy could have found a way to keep him in the loop if he really had wanted to. He just didn’t consider it to be necessary. And Axl, of course, would run after Izzy as soon as he whistled. 

“So, hey, why don’t you take over my job, huh? Then you can be the one to get five-minute-updates if it’s so fucking important to you. I’ll be happy to swap!” 

“Yeah, no need to yell,” Slash said, feeling a bit disturbed by Duff’s emotional outbreak. Duff was supposed to be the voice of reason, after all.

“I get it,” Duff still kept yelling. Fuck, this was probably the first time since their arrival that he was able to let off some steam. “I do get it, believe me. This … this … it’s … I can’t even say. We are stuck and nobody knows a way out. But it won’t get any better if we start going off at each other’s throats. So stop making it even more difficult for Izzy. If he tells you to do something, fucking do it. Fuck, are you even aware that you’re getting away easy here?”

“Easy?” Slash roared. 

“Yeah, easy!” Duff screamed back. “You get time on the fucking ship. You are unsupervised most of the day, ‘cause nobody gives a fuck about you. You don’t have a fucking camera in your fucking bedroom. And nobody forces you to … to… to fuck somebody you don’t want to fuck!”

Duff turned away and kicked the doorframe. 

“Duff,” Slash said, but Duff was already out of the hatch room and climbing up ladders. It wasn’t before they had reached the engine room that he managed to stop him. 

“Duff!” he repeated. 

“Yeah, so,” Duff said, his voice a little hiccupy, his eyes a little teary. “We have to stop expecting Izzy to invent some type of miracle. ‘cause he won’t get us out of this on his own. We have to come up with plans ourselves. We have to help him somehow, ‘cause he has no idea, but he won’t tell, ‘cause he still thinks it’s all his freaking responsibility and sooner or later they’ll find out about the not … not…”

“Not what, Duff?” Slash asked, the rest of his anger evaporating. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s fucking gotten himself sterilized,” Duff said. “And he’s trying to hide it. On top of everything else.”

“He … what?”

“And if they find that out … and I mean they will, there is no real way around it with all their tests and science and shit and then … I mean… what will they even do then? And he’s trying to wing it somehow, but, fuck, you know him, sometimes he forgets that he’s only human.”

Slash slapped his hand against his forehead. That was so, so Izzy. Keeping something like that to himself. 

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Duff said. 

“Right, because that’s not important information at all, huh?” 

“Yeah, so we have to stop fucking around and find a freaking solution to all this. Only I don’t know how because I’m not allowed to do anything at all or go anywhere or … whatever.”

“What do you think I’m doing here, huh?” Slash asked. 

“I think … what?” 

Slash snorted. “Yes, officially we are here for maintenance, sure. But, if you stop yelling and give me a moment, I can deliver something you can tell Izzy under the shower today. Over there.” 

He motioned towards the computer terminal and Duff followed. 

“The computer is bugged,” he said when he booted it. “But I found a way around it.” He sat down and pulled up some protocols he was pretty sure wouldn’t tell Duff anything. “The lay version is: I did not destroy the bug, but rerouted the information. They still think they are looking into our system, but all they get is a purified version. Only what I want them to have.”

“That’s awesome,” Duff crouched down next to him. “What … what does it help us?”

“At the moment? Not so much. But I’m trying to hack the door system. Our door is clean, we can all pass. The gate to the connection tunnel is the problem. It’s helpful that you can now pass, too, that makes already three of us. Now I only have to make it accept Izzy’s bracelet signature. I have not managed that yet, so I try to find a way to circumvent it.”

“And the ship?” Duff asked. 

“That I already handled,” he grinned. “Found the switches to the docking system. I left them on, so far, but I can neutralize them within five minutes if I have to.”

“That means …,” 

“Exactly. Sadly, I can’t say how long it will take. The security systems for the doors are guarded a lot better than the docking systems. They probably think, if they keep people from entering the ships, then there’s no reason to secure the ships, too.”

“So … wow.” Duff looked at him with a little bit of awe, and somehow that felt good. “Why didn’t you tell Izzy?”

Slash laughed. “Same reason, apparently, why he doesn’t tell me anything. No occasion. There’s always somebody around. Aino at a minimum. And it will be difficult enough to squeeze one signature in under the radar. No idea if I can get them all in. Probably not.”

“So… we’ll leave them here?”

Slash shrugged. “Why not? They don’t even know that we are going. And I don’t think they wasted any time considering how we might get out of this ourselves, once they were off to Goral.”

“That’s … kind of true,” Duff admitted. “But isn’t it unfair? I mean… they’ve been kind of nice, lately, don’t you think?”

“Do you believe they would make sure we got out of here if they had found a way to leave without us?”

“Uhm. Maybe? At least, I hope they would.” 

Duff looked unsure and Slash shook his head in mild despair.

“You’re too good for this world, kid. Trust me, Duff, the answer is now. Anyway, guess we need to get some real work done to keep up appearance. At least we should run past the cameras a few times and smear a bit of oil all over us. And then there’s of course some real work we have to get done if we want this ship to even be able to leave when we want her to.”

“Yeah,” Duff said, suddenly looking a lot happier than before. “Yeah, let’s do that. Just … OK, what can I do?”

+++

In the end, Duff didn’t work that much. Slash soon returned to the computer and continued searching for a hack to the doors, and so Duff used his sudden free time, entered storage room 3, took a seat behind the drum kit, and hammered the shit out of it, until he was drenched in sweat and too exhausted to think about anything but his aching muscles.


	53. Doom's Day

The next days passed about as devoid of events as the last ones. According to Duff, Slash was busy hacking doors, which was at least something. Duff had also been a bit upset about leaving the other four behind, but Izzy agreed with Slash. He had absolutely no qualms. He had done all Aino had asked of him, and even though she didn’t know that he was using her, in his opinion they were even. 

When the day of doom finally arrived, Izzy realized that just pretending to be the King of Cool was not gonna cut it. He needed to get drunk, to see this through. Not too drunk, he still had to get it up after all, but drunk enough to not think any more about what he was doing. Or why he was doing it. Or think in general. And he had to get Duff drunk, too, because Duff looked as if he was facing the imminent demise of his favourite pet. Maybe involving him in all this had been a far worse idea than he had originally thought. Sometimes his spur of the moment decisions were not all the rage they seemed to be when he made them. 

The first time would be the worst, he told himself. They had to turn this into routine, somehow. If they didn’t manage that, they would all lose their mind.

Even if Slash found a sudden solution for the door, there was still the new stumbling block of Axl’s shots. Their chances to solve that problem at Goral had been diminished to pretty much nothing, so they had to stay until Eskil had delivered. Unfortunately, he had no idea how many fertile days that would include. 

When he met Aino over lunch, she looked just the way he felt. 

“Make sure you are ready,” he mumbled through his food. “There won’t be any preparation. You’re able to take it or not.”

She nodded, understanding what he was really saying: that he wouldn’t manage to pull through if he had to bother with anything but the sheer, physical act. There wouldn’t be emotions, there wouldn’t be considerations, there would just be penetration and ejaculation and then it would be over. 

“Jeff. I know it’s unlikely, but what will we do if …”

“You can always get an abortion at Goral. Or wait until it’s born and leave it here. You know it’s not about family values, they want the baby.” 

Again, she didn’t look happy. Yeah, bad luck, he wouldn’t explain that she didn’t need to worry. And he definitely wouldn’t pretend that he would play baby-daddy in case of disaster, just to make her feel better. 

“Get drunk,” he added as an afterthought. “Really. There’s nothing you’re winning by staying sober.”

“Are you that abysmal?” she asked back. 

“Ask Duff, I’m sure he can give you a report.”

Aino chewed her lip. “How will he take it? I mean, he’s your…”

Izzy waved his hand to stop her. He was not willing to discuss Duff with her. 

“I still have to do … some shit,” he said. Yeah, finding a bottle of brandy. “We’ll do it in your room.”

“I’d rather…,”

“Yours,” Izzy repeated. Because then he could leave right afterwards. And no way in hell would he fuck her in the bed he shared with Duff. “After dinner. As I said, be ready.”

Dinner came a lot faster than it should and it was over even faster. Izzy was sure he hadn’t eaten anything at all, but here he was, looking at his empty plate. When had that even happened? 

No sense in delaying the inevitable, he decided and dragged Duff to their room for preparations in the form of copious alcohol. 

“I think this is the first time I’m getting drunk under the shower,” Duff said while they were taking alternate sips out of the bottle. 

Izzy cast him a wry smile. “You know this is just …”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Duff said. “Stop worrying about me. It’s you who’s got to keep his shit together, so make sure you do. Don’t embarrass me with misperformance. People might think I didn’t train you properly.”

They finished and Izzy made an actual effort to look halfway presentable. Then they went over to Aino’s room. She opened, and Izzy almost laughed. She had done the same, shower, halfway nice clothes, trying to be more or less attractive without looking as if she had even bothered. 

“There’s the bed,” she said. “Need anything else?”

Izzy shook his head. He would have liked to know where exactly the camera was, but he simply assumed it would be similar to his own room. He was not up for more than one run per night anyway, and so he would try and shield Duff a bit from that angle. 

“Come on, kids, let’s get it done,” he said. “Which side is yours?”

“As I’m sleeping alone, both,” Aino said. But then she sat down on the left side of the bed. 

Izzy had asked Duff how he wanted to do this, on the bed or on the floor, and Duff had opted for the floor. He took off his pants and, leaving on his shirt, perched on the right corner and spread his thighs. He dropped one of the pillows onto the floor and without being prompted, Duff got to work. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Izzy muttered.

As if Duff still needed information about how he liked his blowjobs. It was more for his own benefit, a way of getting Aino out of his head and be actually able to get hard. The time until he came up with something like a suitable erection. was embarrassingly long. Every now and then he caught a look from under Duff’s hair, a mixture of despair and exasperation, to please, finally get him out of this misery. His mouth probably started to hurt, so Izzy closed his eyes and tried harder. 

“OK,” he said finally without turning around. “I think … this should work.”

Duff sat back, and Izzy closed his hand around his dick, keeping the movement up to avoid renewed failure. 

“How?” Aino asked and that almost did it for him. 

“On your belly, keep your shirt on,” he said. 

Izzy wanted to switch off the light, but that wouldn’t do. As an afterthought he kissed Duff, to get his taste onto his tongue and his scent into his nose and then he did what had to be done. He closed his eyes and tried to get his mind elsewhere. Sadly, it didn’t work. 

Just when he thought he might have to trouble Duff for another round, he felt a hand on his nape. Hair tickled his skin and then there was Duff’s mouth against his ear, whispering the filthiest obscenities he had ever heard into his ear. 

“And now,” Duff breathed when he was done with his litany of profanities, “you will come for me. And then you will take me to our room and I’ll blow you until you’re hard again, and then you will fuck me because no way in hell will I tolerate that anybody who isn’t me will be the last person you fucked for longer than five minutes.”

Izzy stilled for a moment, trying to get his bearings together, when the hand on his nape closed around his neck, the thumb pressing in behind the joint of his jaw. 

“Now, Izzy.”

“Sometimes you’re awfully bossy,” Izzy whispered back, which made the pressure increase. 

“Come for me,” Duff breathed. “Or I’ll fuck you here and now, camera be damned.”

And then slowly, slowly, he let his hand run down from his neck, down over his spine towards ... For a moment Izzy was tempted to let it happen. Fortunately, just the idea of having Duff fuck him right here, in Aino’s bed, while people were watching, made him come right there and then. 

The next day they repeated this game and the day after that Duff declared that he was done and wouldn’t be along for a repeat. Izzy was OK with it. He still didn’t like it, but he had reached a point where he wasn’t thinking about it anymore and just got it done. It wasn’t that much more unpleasant than an afternoon discussing waste recycling with a group of his grumpy aunts and uncles and cousins and other relatives.

It was the evening after day three, when he did the routine check of hidden surveillance equipment, that he noticed, that the camera was gone. He checked again. And again, but nothing came up. 

“We managed!” he said, when Duff gave him a confused look. “They have started to believe me. Camera’s gone.”

Duff stood still for a moment. His mouth fell open, then closed, and he swallowed audibly as if he had to get the lumps of a lifetime out of his throat. Then he grabbed him by his shirt, pushed him backward onto the bed and assaulted him full force. 

To his surprise, Izzy realized how tall Duff really was and also that he had built up quite a bit of muscle over the last year. Gone was the overgrown, gangly kid and replaced by someone a lot more determined and self-confident and all in all … grown up. When had that happened? And why had he missed it? 

“Fuck me,” Izzy whispered, when Duff came up for a second, looking down on him like he owned him, and, fuck did he do. 

Duff did him the favour.

It was a very different experience from their first attempt, Izzy realized, as Duff vented his frustration on him, just rolled him over and took him in what must have been the most self-indulging act Izzy had ever witnessed him commit. 

“Sorry,” Duff panted when they were done. “So… oh God, did I hurt you? Do you need me to … dunno … anything?” 

Izzy couldn’t help but laugh when Duff looked down on him and hesitantly touched his cheek. Here he was, already in full-service mode again. 

“All good,” he said while his ass throbbed and he hoped he would find the numbing cream when Duff wasn’t looking. Limping around after a good fuck with his bed slave was sadly a less than brilliant idea. “All good, sugar.”

Duff didn’t look quite convinced, but he laid down instead of running for the first aid kit. 

“I didn’t know you could be such a beast,” Izzy said and Duff gave him another guilty look. 

“I try not to,” he replied. “Especially not … I mean … you’re practically …”

“Don’t say that word!” Izzy interrupted him. “’cause I’m not. Really, Duff, that must be some kind of kink for you.”

“You are,” Duff insisted. “Almost. ‘cause once every decade is not enough to change it.”

“This is already twice within a decade.”

Duff raised his chin. “Make it three and I’ll scratch you off the list.”

“Pushing your boundaries, huh?” Izzy crossed his arms behind his head. “You know the rules: let me heal first, then we can set a date.”

“So I did…”

“No,” Izzy interrupted him again. “All good. Mean it.”

“I should really get the numbing cream.” 

Duff was already half out of bed before Izzy managed to catch his wrist and pull him back. 

“Tomorrow,” he said when Duff landed on top of him. “Let me enjoy it for a few hours, OK?”

“Enjoy…,” 

“Yeah, Duff, enjoy. Physical proof of where my favourite person in the world has just been.” 

Duff blushed, and Izzy had no idea how he still managed after not only all the shit they had done themselves but also after all the sex talks, he apparently had with Axl. Shouldn’t he be completely callous by now? 

But while Duff was perfectly capable of discussing the crudest topics of the universe without a hint of unease, being told that he was so much more than just a phenomenal lay, made him flush every single time. It never stopped being adorable.


	54. If It Makes You Happy

Being rid of the cameras was a huge relief. All of a sudden, they could just talk things through in the evening and behave for at least a few hours naturally around each other. 

Izzy had grudgingly given Slash the code that would allow him access to all parts of the XXGs computer system, simply because somebody who was actually able to enter her, should have it. Which meant that he could now control the whole fucking ship. If he was honest, it didn’t even change all that much. Just that Slash could take the ship and run away, if he thought it would be a good idea, of course. 

And it would be a good idea. Given their situation, sending Slash ahead with Duff and Axl became more and more the best solution he could think of. After he had solved the antidote-question. 

It was about two weeks later when Eskil asked him to come down to the lab again. 

“I did some analyses,” he said without preamble, just like he always did. Smalltalk was not his strong suit, and probably one of the reasons why Izzy had always liked him. “In the end, it’s a simple mechanism.”

“What is?” Izzy was leaning against the lab bench, while Eskil pulled up a molecular image of … whatever … on a screen. “Unlike you, I haven’t started to play with molecules in the sandbox. I was one of the regular kids, with a little bucket and one of those tiny shovels, you know.”

“Which you liked to use to hit the other children onto their heads if I remember correctly. So pay attention and learn something! This is the toxin.” He pointed at one of the molecules. “This is the antidote. The toxin is just a simple protein. Nothing special, see?”

He pointed again at the first molecule and Izzy shrugged. He had always been more interested in engineering than life science. 

“All the antidote does is prevent the folding of the amino acid chain.”

Izzy gave him a look that must have come across as utterly clueless because Eskil didn’t seem reassured by his understanding of the problem. 

“Fuck, didn’t you learn anything at school?” he exclaimed. “Protein – amino acid chain – folded. Look it up!”

“OK,” Izzy replied. “Will do.” 

“There are three linking points, here, here and here.” He pointed out three areas in which the garland that constituted the toxin folded back into itself. “The antidote blocks one of them and keeps it from folding properly. That’s all.”

“So you can … construe something similar?” Izzy tried to not let his hopes flare up too high. 

“Yes, no problem. You just create something that docks at one of the folding points, which leads to no folding. But there is another issue. A huge one.”

Of course, there was. Izzy waited while Eskil switched off the screen. 

“As I said, the antidote prevents proper folding, but it doesn’t manage to a hundred percent. I didn’t want to say anything while your boy was here because I have no idea how much he knows, but … when I ran the scan on him … let’s say, I hope you didn’t pay too much for him.”

Izzy tried to appear nonchalant while waiting for Eskil to continue. 

“There’s a lot of damage. Really a lot. To muscles and joints and … yeah. And nothing has ever been done to get it treated medically. It’s as if it has just been left to heal on its own.”

“I know that,” Izzy said. 

“What the hell happened to him? Has he been in a mining accident? That’s why he was sorted out? Too much damage to bother with repairs?”

“Not that I know.”

“Rather not that you’ll tell me. I think part of it might be reparable. You’d have to ask Venla, she is better qualified to deal with injuries.”

“Will do,” Izzy said, not planning to. Axl would not agree to any type of surgery. His body had been tinkered with against his will for such a long time, it was just not possible for him to allow any further modifications. Not even if they were intended to help him. 

“Sure.” Eskil took a deep breath. “Your decision. Just saying. Don’t work him too hard. Not that I think you’ll do, just … not in the future either. He may look young on the outside, but the inside is shredded.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Izzy said. “So that’s the big problem?”

“No. The toxin. The antidote does not work a hundred percent. There’s always a small amount that is active and that is a problem. Axl will likely be fine for another ten years or so, but then he will rapidly start showing signs. I could already make out first damage to his organs. Nothing they can’t heal on their own, once the toxin is gone, but that’s the problem, right? It needs to be gone. Completely. The sooner the better.”

Izzy sucked in his breath. That was not exactly good news.

“I know the toxin is a way to control them and if you absolutely want me to, I’ll just give you another antidote that will work in a similar way. We can even manufacture it here, and you’ll be good for a few more years. But I know you, Jeff, you were never like that. You’ll want him to be OK and for that, we need to switch off the gene.”

“How?” Izzy asked. 

“First, I need to know where it is produced. I already told you, they won’t have modified each and every cell. That’s not even possible. They will have modified a few, central areas. I would put my money on the blood building system, but we’ll check. I have created a DNA probe and we’ll see where it docks. If I have a target, then I have a chance to take care of it for good.”

Izzy tried to be relieved that there was at least a chance for a solution, but he still wasn’t holding his breath. He had to get Axl to agree to all of this. Siphoning blood out of his body was one thing. Adding something else a completely different one. 

“That probe, how is that done?”

“Just an injection. Then I can watch under the scanner where it finds a home.”

That at least didn’t sound so bad, Izzy thought. 

“You can hold his hand, while I’m doing it,” Eskil said. 

Izzy showed him the finger. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell. If you tell me your secret that is. How you manage to get them so … hm…” He seemed to search for the correct word. “I’ve seen you with the other kid, the blond one, and, really, I’ve known dogs who were less attached to their masters. Do you drug them somehow?”

“They know the alternative would be far worse,” Izzy said lightly. 

“If you say so. Anyway, send Axl down, OK? The sooner the better. Today, if you can manage.” 

“Depends on how many water supply ideas I have to run through today,” Izzy replied. It would take some time to make Axl swallow the idea. “Won’t likely have time for anything else. You know how it goes, no rest for the wicked.”

“The old man keeping you busy, huh?”

“You have no idea.” Izzy pushed away from the lab bench. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Finding a moment to talk to Axl in private turned out to be difficult. In the end, he simply told Axl to see him in the cabin after dinner. That got him another one of Slash’s death glares, of which he got more and more, lately. What the fuck did he think they were doing? Indulging in wild sex games? He had Duff for that! 

+++

After Izzy had presented his options to him, Axl had found refuge in his own cabin on the XXG. He was not supposed to be here, of course, not on his own and definitely not after working hours, but the guards were getting sloppier. It was just as Izzy had said earlier, they started to believe him and didn’t care so much anymore what his own crew did on his own ship. 

The way Izzy had explained things to him had made it all sound so very reasonable and easy and just the thing you did on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Get a few injections, have your DNA altered, no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t for Izzy. 

For Axl, it was all a bit different. Alterations to his body were hardly ever done in his favour, and just because some guy in some lab promised to shut off the toxin, didn’t mean that would actually do it. What for? Because he was such a nice guy? Because he liked Izzy so much? He wouldn’t even get money for it, Izzy had explained, because requirements inside the community were handled without payments. 

But nothing was for free, Axl knew, and Izzy’s theory that Eskil just enjoyed solving a puzzle he was not supposed to solve, was a bit vague an explanation for something that would reach so deep into his essence. What if he changed something completely else? Izzy was no scientist. He wouldn’t be able to check. 

In addition, the next problem was looming in front of him. He needed treatment. The headaches were getting worse, and twice already he had found himself at a place without any recollection of actually going there. Izzy was still out of the question. That left Duff. Izzy had shown him how to run the program and hopefully, he still remembered where the start button was. Regarding the rest, fuck, he would be able to attach all the stuff himself, if he had to. Duff should be able to manage. 

He tackled the idea the next morning. 

“I need to talk to you,” he told Duff when they were both picking up food in the kitchen. 

Duff nodded but thankfully didn’t ask what this was about. They all had gotten good at not asking stupid questions when strangers were around. It went without saying that requests were only made for important issues. 

His and Duff’s preferred meeting place was next to the waste chute and so, right after breakfast, they both showed up, each with a bag full of garbage they had collected here and there. 

It was one of the very few benefits of their position: they could meet at places like this, where only other slaves might happen to come by. At worst, they would be accused of dawdling or gossiping, but those were things slaves were pretty much expected to do unless they were constantly supervised. 

“Treatment,” Axl said without preamble. Another thing they had all gotten good at, breaking whole conversations down into single words. “You’ve gotta do it. Izzy can’t.”

“Me?” Duff dropped his waste bag in shock. “But …”

“Somebody’s got to. And soon, ‘cause I’m dragging this along for days already.”

Weeks would be the true answer, but if he admitted to that, Duff would probably faint and fall into the garbage chute himself. And then he would get shredded and Izzy would blow his cover out of sheer grief. 

“OK,” Duff conceded and picked up his bag again. “OK. I think I remember how to do it.”

“I know how to do it,” Axl said. “You only have to do the shit I can’t see and hit the start button.”

“Yeah, right.” Duff didn’t look as if it was right. He rather looked as if it was absolutely wrong. “I’ll let Izzy know. And I suppose we should get Slash…”

“No,” Axl interrupted him. “No way. Izzy can’t help, so keep him out of it. He’ll only fret and do stupid shit like …” explaining to somebody why he urgently needed to get onto his ship and then they would send somebody with him and have them watch. This blasted lab guy, probably, who would think this was an awesome opportunity to satisfy his never-ending curiosity. 

“You know Izzy. He always does some kind of shit he shouldn’t be doing. He’ll only make things more complicated than they are.”

Thankfully, Duff agreed with him. 

“But Slash…”

“No,” Axl insisted. No way in hell would Slash ever see him during treatment. 

“But he…”

“No!” Fuck, why didn’t he get it. “That’s my decision. It’s always been my decision. From day one. Even Izzy said it was my decision. Just because I’m asking you for help doesn’t change that.”

“Ok,” Duff said. “Yeah, it’s your decision. But Slash will feel left out.”

“His problem,” Axl muttered. Fuck, this wasn’t some sort of entertainment program he was excluded from. “I have my reasons.”

And he had. It was enough that he sucked at having sex, he didn’t need additional complications in their relationship. Not that Slash ever complained about sucky sex. On the contrary, he seemed content with what he got. But he really didn’t need a reminder who he was having it with. Really not. 

“We’ll do it now,” Axl said. 

“Now?” Duff dropped his bag again, spilling waste all over the floor.

Another slave entered the room to deliver his load while Duff was busy cleaning up. 

“Fuck!” Axl exclaimed. “Get a move on, I heard Izzy wants you to suck his dick.”

“Now?” Duff looked up from the floor. “I don’t think so. Unless he wants me to do it in the middle of the council meeting. I mean, he might want me to, but I don’t think it will make anybody else overly happy. Except him, of course.”

The slave gave him a horrified look before he fled the room. Another true and tried method to ensure privacy. Axl helped Duff dump his waste into the chute, then let his own bag follow. 

“Come on and we’ll be done before Slash comes onboard or before Izzy has noticed that you’re not doing the dishes or whatever you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing the dishes,” Duff said while he followed Axl down the corridors towards the XXG. “Youla is showing me how to use all those herbs. It’s awesome. You only need teeny tiny amounts, you know? We might really be able to grow enough of them on the ship.”

Axl didn’t care. Only Duff would be able to prattle on about spices while they were about to jolt his brain with electricity. Duff would probably explain the proper use of oregano to his own executioner right before the big event. Because afterwards he wouldn’t have the opportunity anymore. 

“There is something else,” Axl said when they had reached the sickbay. 

“Yeah?” 

Duff looked a little helplessly at the bunch of cables he had pulled out of the drawer under the screen and Axl hoped he really remembered what he was doing. 

“Izzy told you? That I need to … the antidote?”

Duff put the cables down and faced him. “Yeah. Are you gonna do it?”

Izzy may be different from most slaveowners in the galaxy, but there was one thing, in particular, that spoke in his favour: unlike Duff, Axl had always been in charge of anything that pertained to his body. Any form of treatment, interference, medication, whatever, was his decision. 

Once he had decided to try living without the freaking shots. Izzy had told him that he was an idiot and then left him be. Until it became so bad, that he couldn’t go on anymore. This was no different. Yes, Izzy was in favour, but, slave or not, it was his own decision. And if he fucked it up, he only had to blame himself. 

“Would you do it?” Axl asked. 

“Yeah,” Duff replied. “Sure. Just the chance to be rid of this shit would be worth it, I think.”

“And you’d trust him? I mean, we don’t even know him.”

“Izzy does,” Duff replied. 

“And that’s enough for you?” 

Duff nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Axl wished he had Duff’s trust. “I need to think a bit about it,” he said. “But if I do it, I mean, could you be there?”

“Me?” Duff exclaimed. “Yeah, sure, you know I would, but … why me?”

“’cause I don’t think Izzy will have so much time.” 

He thought back to Erudino. Izzy hadn’t been allowed into the lab itself, but he had kind of been camping out in front of the door. 

“I mean, he tries not to let anybody know that we’re doing it at all. So, he can’t stay for hours. Or for how long it will take.”

“Yeah, no, but … don’t you want Slash to stay with you?”

Why the fuck did Duff keep pushing Slash into all this shit? Was it so hard to understand that Axl didn’t want him to see what kind of freak he was? 

“No,” was all he said. “We should get a move on.”

Axl started to strip, while Duff sorted the cables and booted the system. Together they got everything attached in what was hopefully the correct order and then, when all was done, Duff took another deep breath and started the program. 

+++

Sitting in Izzy’s chair while Axl’s treatment was running its course felt wrong. Izzy would probably kill him when he learned what they were doing here, but Axl was kind of right. Kind of. Yes, they had to get it done without Izzy, but, no, they shouldn’t have done it without Slash. Sure, it was Axl’s decision, but Duff would be damned if he ever understood his reasoning. 

He would have felt a lot better if Slash had been present, too, simply because then he wouldn’t be the only one to get a slight panic attack with every heavier twitch Axl made. He tried to remember how the rhythm had been the last time, after how many minutes the heavier shocks should have subsided, but couldn’t. 

When they finally reached the quiet part, his skin was clammy with cold sweat. His fingers trembled when he carefully touched Axl’s arm the way Izzy had done. Axl shouldn’t be aware of it, but just on the minuscule chance that he was, Duff didn’t want him to miss out. Maybe his subconscious registered the touch and would be uneasy if it was not coming. 

There were quite a few occasions in his life when he had felt immense relief, but the moment when Axl opened his eyes, ranked high among them. 

“You OK?” he asked and helped him sit up. 

Axl looked confused for a moment, and then smiled at him, soft and sweet, the way he never did. Which left part two of the problem. They had to find a place where they could hole up for a few hours. Izzy wouldn’t notice that he was missing. He was stuck in meetings all day long. Slash, on the other hand, would soon start looking for Axl, and so Duff did the only sensible thing and dragged him down to the engine room. 

Slash was already busy at the computer. 

“Oh, fuck, there you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you guys. Izzy was about to throw a public hissy fit when he realized that you were AWOL.”

“He noticed?” Duff asked nervously. 

“Yeah. He was close to searching you via your tracker. Which … why didn’t he?”

“Because that would be creepy and stalkerish,” Duff replied. “So I asked him to switch it off and he did.”

Not that it had been that easy. They had almost had a fight over it, sometimes before Chomo. Izzy had insisted that for as long as he was a slave, he was in too much danger to not be supervised, and Duff had been adamant about being an adult who had all the right in the world to get into as much danger as he pleased. 

Then Izzy had said he gave a fuck about Duff’s opinion and Duff had yelled that he should make up his fucking mind about whether he wanted a boyfriend or a bed slave and Izzy had caved. Grudgingly. And slept alone for three days in a row. 

The most ridiculous thing about it was that Duff could not keep Izzy from switching it on anyway, just in case he wanted. He wouldn’t even notice. Therefore, it felt good that Izzy had stuck to their agreement even while he was worried. And if he hadn’t searched for Axl’s signal either, it meant he had really understood the problem. 

Slash didn’t look as if he believed that it had been just that easy either but didn’t pursue it any further. 

“So are you now both working on the ship?” he asked. 

“Nope, I need to go back to the kitchen,” Duff said. 

He didn’t absolutely have to, he could always pretend to have to do personal shit for Izzy, but they were, all of them, always using far too many excuses for non-fitting behaviour, and therefore he wanted to keep it to a minimum. 

“It’s just … Axl shouldn’t be alone for the next hours. But as it’s only you two on the ship, that’s probably not such a big issue.”

“What …wait!” Slash exclaimed. “Axl?” He stood up and came over. “What’s up?” He took Axl’s face into his hands and looked into his eyes. “No, don’t tell me…”

“We had to,” Duff said. “Axl’s been delaying it for days, he said.”

“You… fuck, why didn’t you tell me? Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” Axl said. Then he leaned in and kissed Slash briefly onto his lips. 

“Why did you delay it? When did you even notice first?” Slash asked. 

“Sometime … about three weeks ago.”

“Sometime …” Slash let go of him. “Three weeks? And you didn’t tell me? And you went to Duff for …”

“Izzy showed me how to do it,” Duff quickly said. “So I was the obvious choice, I suppose. Since Izzy can’t, you know.”

“Yeah, but I should have been there,” Slash snapped. “And I should have known. I should have known three weeks ago when you noticed first. Really, Axl, that’s … that’s… fuck, do you trust me at all? Why don’t you ever come to me with your problems? You always run to Izzy and … and I get that. Somehow. I wish you wouldn’t, but … yeah. I get it. But now you’d rather go to Duff? How do I even figure into the equation at all, huh?”

Duff decided it was time for him to make a swift exit, but he never managed. Slash made that exit first. He stormed out of the engine room and Duff was left with post-treatment Axl, who just looked after him in total bewilderment. 

“Told you we should have gotten him involved,” Duff said.

Axl chewed his lip. “Is he angry now?” 

“You could say that.” Duff slumped down onto Slash’s chair at the terminal. “Really, you two … he wants to be involved, Axl.” 

Axl came over and sat down on the floor next to him. 

“Why?” he asked. “It’s not nice. I mean, why would he want to see me like that?”

“Because he loves you!” Duff exclaimed. “Because that’s what love is about. Not only the nice things but this … this shit… it’s all part of it. And if you love somebody then you want to be part of it. Fuck, you need to be part of it. And it hurts if you’re not allowed. Do you even love Slash at all? ‘cause then you should know why he’s feeling like shit now.”

“I don’t know,” Axl replied. “I’m not sure what it would feel like. Do you love Izzy?”

“Yes!” Duff said, really getting exasperated now. “Of course, I do. Do you really think I would take up with all his shit if I didn’t?”

“And how does it feel?”

“How does it…,” Duff fell silent. “You really don’t know, huh?” 

Axl shook his head. “Or maybe I do. I’m just not sure.”

“I guess it’s different for everybody,” Duff said hesitantly. How was he supposed to describe what he felt for the infuriating idiot that was Izzy? “I want him to be happy. ‘cause if he is, that makes me happy, too.”

Axl kept looking at him expectantly, so maybe that was not enough of an explanation. 

“Sometimes, when he’s not happy, and when I try to cheer him up, then I can see that he really doesn’t care about it at that moment. Like, he wants to stay moody and grumpy and here I am, purposefully disturbing his shitty mood. But he lets me try and he even makes an effort to go along. Not because he wants to be cheered up, but because he knows that it makes me happy if he is happy and so he tries to be happy. For me, you know. Just to make me happy. And that’s how I know that he loves me, too.”

“That’s quite a lot of happy,” Axl said. “Is it only about being happy? ‘cause then I’m pretty sure I’m not in love or something.”

“Not only,” Duff replied. “As I said, it’s different for everybody. Sometimes it makes me sad. Being in love, you know. Like now. Izzy’s miserable all the time. He tries to not show it, but he is. And he’s doing it all for us, you know, you and me. Sometimes the enormity of what he’s doing hits me and then I think, why is he even doing it? Why for me? I mean, I’m just me. I’m not that important. Then I wish I could do something to make him feel better, but I can’t. All I can do is try to not make it more difficult for him. Like, not showing him that I’m starting to go crazy here and that sometimes I feel like I have to ram my head against the wall because I can’t take it for one single additional minute. Because, if he knew how I was feeling, that would make him even more miserable and there’s nothing he can do about it anyway. So I try to be strong, and not get pulled down by this shit and not wallow in my misery. Because I love him.”

Axl thought about it, but Duff had no idea if it made sense to him at all. 

“Maybe it’s like … when you say you don’t throw shit anymore because Izzy doesn’t want you to.”

“I’m not in love with Izzy,” Axl quickly said. 

“No, but you do love him,” Duff replied. “And you stopped throwing shit because it makes him unhappy. That’s love, Axl. A different type of love, but still. Do you feel any of that for Slash?” 

“I don’t throw shit at him anymore either.” 

Duff snorted, but he wasn’t sure that it was meant to be funny. Instead, Axl leaned against his leg and put his head onto his thigh. Izzy had said that sometimes Axl wanted physical contact after treatment, so Duff hesitantly touched his shoulder. 

“I don’t think it would make Slash happy to see me during treatment,” Axl finally said. “I think it would make him upset, somehow. And you said you don’t tell Izzy that you want to ram your head against the wall because it would make him miserable. So, whatever you say doesn’t fit at all, and I just … I don’t get it.”

“These are two different things,” Duff insisted. “Right now, Izzy can’t help me. He can’t help you either, which is why we did it without telling him. Slash, on the other hand, he could have been here with you and offered … dunno … moral support, or something.”

“I don’t need moral support,” Axl replied. “Doesn’t change anything.”

“Dude, you just asked me to be there in case you wanna do that genetic stuff thingy. That’s moral support.”

“Just to make sure everything works out correctly.”

Yeah, Duff thought. As if he would be able to change shit in case something went wrong. 

“OK. Other way round. Think … Slash would be ill.”

“Like the flu?” 

“Yeah, something like that. He’s got the flu and he would be coughing and sneezing and have a headache and be miserable and go on everybody’s nerves. What would you do?”

Axl shrugged. “Make him tea? And get the flu myself, I suppose. Because I should have stayed away instead of bringing him tea.”

“Exactly!” Duff exclaimed. “You wouldn’t stay away, just because he’s being whiny and insufferable and you might catch it, too. You would care for him. And that’s what he wants. Care for you!”

“It’s all a bit complicated,” Axl said. “On the one hand I should make him happy, but then I should let him do stuff that would make him unhappy because it would make him happy. I mean… really Duff,” he looked up at him, “who invented this shit?”

Now Duff did laugh. “I have no idea,” he said. “But it is what it is, I’m afraid. We’ll find him later, OK? When you’re being yourself again. And maybe you can then apologize or something. And tell him that next time you’ll let him know. And maybe, if you decide to do that gene therapy thingy, then ask him to be there. For moral support. Instead of me.”

“Would that make him happy?” Axl asked. 

“Definitely,” Duff replied.


	55. Under the Stars II

Slash had already left the XXG when he realized that he had no idea where to go. Staying on the ship with Axl had suddenly felt far too tight, but being back on the freaking Mothership was just as bad. Where did these people even go if they needed to let off steam? One giant monstership and not a single bar anywhere. Was there a place where one went to get drunk? 

Getting drunk was very high on his agenda right now. If he only knew how getting drunk on this ship worked. There was no money involved in anything. Did one just go into the kitchen and ask for a bottle of brandy? Was alcohol allocated per person just like everything else seemed to be allocated? Food, sex, medical treatment? 

Slash had reconciled himself with the knowledge that Axl would always run to Izzy first. That was just how things were. Yes, it was a constant thorn in his flesh, but after all that Izzy had done for Axl, he could understand it. Or at least tried to. And maybe it helped that Izzy would never want to be any closer to Axl than he already was. 

But now Duff was surpassing him, too? That hurt. Slash liked Duff. A lot, actually. It was just as Axl had said, one could not not like Duff. Even now he was not angry with Duff for being his usual considerate, helpful self. And Duff was so, so Izzy’s that there wasn’t any competition either. 

Yet, sometimes Slash wondered if the only reason Axl even considered a relationship with him was because his number one and number two were busy shagging each other. He might even content himself with being number three, but as there were no number four, five, or six, he couldn’t even be sure he was the true number three. Maybe he would be at the very bottom of any list of people whom Axl trusted, no matter how many people there were to choose from? 

He was aware that there was still some kind of barrier between them, and fuck, he thought he had been patient. And he had thought they were getting forward. He no longer felt like he had to ask three times about whether Axl was OK to be touched or not. Even sex came more naturally, despite the few no-go areas that were still active. Which was fine. They didn’t have to everything there was to do. Only he didn’t feel like Axl was getting too much out of it in general. And, yes, that left him a bit at a loss about how to proceed. 

Trust, was the question. Slash had been sure they had done great at developing at least some of it. Yeah, not so much, it seemed. That there was so little trust between them, that Axl would not only conceal his need for treatment for three fucking weeks – he didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he had gone into rage in the midst of Izzy’s blasted family – but that, when he finally couldn’t keep it silent anymore, he went to Duff, that was … too much. 

Slash had been running through at least a couple miles of corridors when he finally found a solution for a hiding place. There was this observatory Izzy had shown him, at the very top of the ship. Slash wasn’t so fond of stargazing, he had spent his whole life under the stars, but it was the perfect place if one needed to be away from … everything. 

He found the next elevator and rode up to the top. 

The observatory was completely empty. He walked down between the aisles that separated the different seating areas, making for the farthest end possible, when he noticed that exactly that spot was already taken. He had already halfway turned around, when he noticed that it was Aino and that she had spotted him. Great, just what he needed. 

“Hey,” she said. “Care for a drink?” She held up a bottle. 

Slash hesitated. On the one hand, he really didn’t need Aino right now, but on the other hand, if she had alcohol …

“Yes,” he said. 

“Help yourself.”

He sat down next to her, took first the bottle, and then a long, deep gulp. Brandy ran down his throat, sharp and a little bitter, and was just what he needed. 

“What are you doing here, getting drunk all by yourself,” he asked when he belatedly realized that it was kind of a strange situation. 

“Good question. Bottle?” 

He handed it over and she drank, too. Her voice sounded a little husky as if she …

“Are you crying?” he asked. 

“No, why would I?” she replied. 

“You tell me, Aino.”

“Do you want to drink or do you want to talk?” she asked. 

So they drank in silence. 

“Lis is gone,” Aino eventually said. 

“Gone where?” Slash tried to clear his head enough to follow the sudden change in topic. With Izzy hardly ever touching planet anywhere, this was already more alcohol than he was used to, and it showed. 

“Home.”

He tried to make sense of her words but failed. 

“Home to … where?”

“Home – home.”

“But … what?”

“Back to Riku, Slash.” 

“But how did she even get away? I mean, we are all stuck here. Or aren’t we?”

“Oh, we are,” Aino laughed without the slightest trace of humour. “Turned out she was doing a bit more than just research for her book. She convinced somebody to get her access to the communication system. Which doesn’t really surprise me, I mean, nobody really cares about what she does, so why not let her chat with home? But, yeah, she contacted some old family friend or something. There has been hell on Riku after his beloved wife suddenly vanished. Nobody believed the story that she had just run away, nice, well-bred girl from a nice, well to do family. He is under suspicion of having been involved in her disappearance. It was no secret that they were having problems.”

“Wow!” Slash took another sip. 

“Yes. She negotiated some kind of deal. Via this family friend. She comes back home, proves that he didn’t kill her, gets a nice settlement. Oh, and Mikah will be part of the deal, by the way. So she took him along.”

“You mean … she’s really gone? And Mikah, too?”

“Yep. Convinced somebody to get her over to the outpost and onto a trade ship back home. She left me a little note, you know. Pinged up on my bracelet this morning. Explained it all. In great detail. To make sure I understand her side of the story.”

“Wow,” Slash said, and handed the bottle over. 

“Yeah. Wow. So here I’m sitting, stuck at this place, doing … yeah, that. With Jeff. Which, funnily, was part of her reasoning. That I still had too many feelings left for him, and she knew he would rediscover his own soon, and then she would be out of the game anyway.”

“Wow,” Slash repeated, but somehow nothing else would strike him as appropriate. 

“I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Has she ever seen him with Duff? I mean, sure, he plaid the slave master role up to annoy her but… come on! Nobody could have taken that serious for longer than a day. That’s the sickest kind of puppy love I’ve ever seen in all my life. How can she even think he’d give that up for me?”

For a moment, Slash wondered how Aino would react if Izzy agreed to give Duff up and play happy family with her. 

“Excuses,” he said instead when he realized that she was indeed waiting for an answer. “To justify her decision. To herself, not you. She finally realized that this is no family outing, but serious business. And Duff? Sorry, Aino, Duff is a slave. Something to play with for a while. Or somebody to get onto a soap-box for, if it fits your narrative. He’d also be the perfect poster-boy for some slave-rights-campaign. I mean, get him into some fun-raising-drive with his big, innocent eyes and you’ll make millions. But in the end, he’s still a slave and definitely not the man you dedicate your life to. Not in her book anyway.” 

He didn’t mention that trying to win Izzy back was just what Lis would have done herself. It would make sense in her book. No matter that Izzy was the fallen boy at the moment, if he kept playing along the way he currently did, it was only a question of time until he would be back in the good graces of his family. And the woman who managed to get pregnant with the miracle kid would be very influential.

She didn’t know Izzy well enough to understand that he didn’t care for influence or that he didn’t only pretend to be happier traveling around on this old, dilapidated ship than sitting in councils and discussing politics. It was a position she would love to have herself, and which Aino could indeed have, if she managed the double feat of both, getting pregnant and getting Izzy to feel some responsibility for his child. Neither of them knew, after all, that it was impossible. 

“What am I gonna do now?” Aino asked. “There’s no sense in going to Goral anymore. We’re all here for … nothing. You, me, Jeff, everybody.”

“What about Jari?” Slash asked. 

“Jari’s gonna stay here with his family. Something he apparently has talked with Duff about. That he had to start making decisions of his own. Really, Slash, what is it with Duff? I mean … he’s cute and all, but … fuck, why does he have to meddle with everything? Is this some secret superpower of his? The irresistible puppy dog eyes or what?”

That, Slash thought, was the same question he was currently pondering himself. 

She was probably just as drunk as he was because suddenly, he found her in his arms. 

“Aino,” he said, a bit torn. 

He could hardly see anything, but he felt quite a bit. Her hair was really nice, he noticed again. Thick and a bit curly. And there were her tits of course, which struggled to find enough space between their chests. Her body moved in his lap, he made out a knee between his own, a foot rubbing against his shin, and, ruse or not, she, he knew had enjoyed sex with him. He remembered all the stunts she had pulled during that one night, how she had just taken over, and made him feel awesome. Pure, mindless sex with somebody who hadn’t wanted anything but pure, mindless sex. Somebody who wouldn’t ask for anything else now. 

“Aino,” he repeated. 

And then he felt the stud in her tongue as she pushed it into his mouth. 

+++

When Slash returned to his room, Axl was waiting for him. He stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed before his chest, expression stubborn, but eyes pleading.

“I’m sorry,” he said, even before Slash had a chance to close the door and run away, as he probably should. 

Slash closed the door and leant against it. He looked at his shoes, wishing Axl would just stop. He was still slightly drunk, he was feeling guilty as hell and he really didn’t want to be reminded just now on how badly he had fucked up. Aino, of all people. What had he been thinking? Nothing, that was the problem. He had felt betrayed and sorry for himself. Thinking was nothing that had occurred to him at that moment. 

“I get it now. I didn’t before, but Duff explained it to me. Why you want to be there for things like … treatment. I thought it would make you unhappy to see it, but Duff said, it will make you even more unhappy to not see it.”

Slash tried to make sense out of the word salad that came out of Axl’s mouth, but it looked like at the moment, understanding the human language was not his forte. 

“There is this … Izzy’s scientist says he can get rid of the toxin gene for good. I was not sure if I want to do that, ‘cause … I don’t like it if people do … stuff to me, but … it makes sense. And I wanted to ask … I mean … if you could be there, that would be great. For … moral support.”

Slash looked up. Duff had meddled again, it seemed. 

“Are you sure you don’t want Izzy?” he asked, knowing he was being mean, but still unable to close his mouth as he should. “Or Duff?”

Axl shook his head. “I thought you wouldn’t like to see it. I mean, it’s all shit, you know?”

“Yeah,” Slash agreed. 

It really was shit. And he was shit, too. 

“You should be accompanied by the person you want most,” he finally said. “Not … the one you think you should want.”

“Then I want you,” Axl said. “I mean if you want to do it. You don’t have to. I mean, maybe Duff has it all wrong.”

Sadly, Duff had it right. Duff always had everything right. That was Duff’s secret superpower, to always put his finger where it hurt most. And then blow on it to make it better and put a band-aid over it and give you some chocolate because you were being so brave.

“I want to.”

“Thanks,” Axl said. 

He really looked relieved, Slash thought. As if some huge weight had been taken off his chest. Then he made a few hesitant steps forward, and as the room was quite small, that was enough for them to stand only a foot apart. 

“Thanks,” Axl repeated and hugged him. 

“Yeah,” Slash said and forced himself to hug him back. 

He had a lump in his throat, one so big that he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to swallow it. 

“There is something else,” Axl said when they had separated again and Slash had gotten himself under enough control to follow him to the bed. 

“What else?” Slash asked, wondering if Axl had noticed some lingering smell or whatever might still be found on his body. He tried to keep a bit of distance between them. 

“When I was first there, he did a scan of me. This guy. Eskil is his name. And he said that maybe my chip could be pulled out.”

“Your chip?” Slash asked. “But that’s inside your spine.”

“Yeah, apparently, they botched that up, too. Looks like there isn’t anything they got right when I was produced. Izzy was not keen on doing it because it might go wrong, you know. But if he can really take it out, then I can be free. At Goral. I mean, sure, I’ll still be what I am, but once the collar and the bracelets are off, nobody will have a way to check. They would have to find my fucking registration number for that and nobody will ever randomly hold a scanner over you. I would be … almost human.”

“And you want to do that?” Slash asked. “Risk and all?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. But I guess … yeah. It’s worth the risk.”

Slash took a deep breath. This was something they really should discuss with Izzy, shouldn’t they? 

Only just a few hours ago he had thrown a tantrum about not being the one Axl came to. Now, the first time he did, all he wanted to do was run to Izzy. He was fucking pathetic! No wonder Axl had never trusted him. 

“It’s your decision,” he finally said. 

It was. It would be the only chance he got at real freedom. They were all taking immense risks here, one more on top started to feel … normal. 

“I hope Izzy will see it the same way,” Axl muttered. “He’s got to give permission.”

“If not, I’ll make him see it,” Slash replied. 

He owed Axl that much. Fuck, after what he had just done, he owed him a shit ton more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me. I had to do it. Because, remember, back when Izzy said, "don't do it again?" You can't drop such a hint and not follow up on it.


	56. Family Resemblance

Izzy really had no idea what to say when Duff told him about the latest developments. They were sprawling all over the bed, just the way they had so often done on the XXG. Being able to end days like this again, had turned into the highlight of Izzy’s miserable existence. At least usually. Not today, it seemed because the stuff Duff was telling him had his hairs stand up all over his body. 

“Repeat that,” he said when he was finally done. “From the beginning.”

Duff gave him a reproachful look. 

“Did your brain get fried during the last meeting?” he asked.

“It got fried at the point where you said that Axl had needed treatment for three fucking weeks. And then it crumbled when you said that you delivered it.”

“Somebody had to,” Duff replied. 

That was kind of true, Izzy had to admit. 

“And you would have done something completely stupid if you had known.”

That was also kind of true. 

“It all worked out. Axl is fine.”

“Yeah,” Izzy muttered. “Thank fuck for that.”

“And he agreed to do the other treatment, you know? The one to cut out the toxin. So that’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Izzy muttered again. “Eskil is pestering me about that anyway.”

That and sending him daily reminders that his next baby-making-date was just around the corner and that he should come in for about another dozen tests in hopes to do something about his precious jizz. So far, he had ignored them all. 

“Yeah, sorry. Not really in the mood.” He laid his head onto Duff’s belly. “I mean, you did great and Axl, too, that he asked you, I mean. I should be fucking happy you managed.”

“I guess it’s just the aftershock,” Duff replied. 

It wasn’t that. It was rather that things seemed to get more and more complex with every single day. 

“What did Slash say about the door system? Any progress?”

“Slash ran off.”

Izzy sat up. “Why?”

“Because he was angry that Axl asked me and not him.”

“He doesn’t even know what to fucking do!” Izzy exclaimed. “Really, if that idiot…”

“Hush,” Duff said and Izzy fell silent. “It’s all good. I hope. He just wanted to be there. I get it, OK? I hope Axl now got it, too. It’s nobody’s fault. They are just not that good at talking things out. Lie down again.” 

He patted his thigh, and Izzy complied. Eyes closed he lay there and let Duff play with his hair. 

“I hope Axl will ask Slash about being there when he gets this other treatment. Would make him happy.”

“Slash or Axl?” Izzy asked. 

“Both, hopefully.”

“OK.” Izzy tried to get more comfortable than he already was. “I won’t cry if I don’t have to be the one to do it. Will only consist of sitting around and waiting for results anyway.”

“You can discuss the waste disposal system instead,” Duff said, rubbing salt into his open wounds. 

“Can I feign a migraine?”

“I wouldn’t,” Duff replied. “They will wonder if your rotten sperm quality is a product of some underlying disease and order a million tests on you.”

Sadly, it was a likely outcome.

“You’re doing great, Izzy,” Duff said. “Really. We’re all totally proud of you.”

Izzy wanted to make some sort of quip as a reply but then he remembered that one weird time, ages ago, when Duff had scolded him about being unable to accept compliments. 

“Thanks,” he said. And he even meant it. 

+++

The next morning, Axl was unable to keep still for more than a minute. He left his breakfast untouched and counted the minutes down until their appointment with Eskil, the overly curious scientist. Today not much would even be happening, just the DNA probe to find the location of the gene. 

As Slash hadn’t been down to the labs yet, Izzy went with them for an introduction. But he wouldn’t stay and, no matter what Duff said, and no matter what he had told Slash, fuck, he wanted Izzy and his aura of cool confidence. 

“Yeah, happy probing then,” Izzy said when everybody had said ‘hi’ to everybody else. He slapped Eskil on the shoulder. “Let me know how it went.”

Then they were back in the examination room and just the interior was enough to make his heart drop into his stomach. 

“This is the probe.” Eskil held up a vial. “I will inject this into your bloodstream, means, within a few minutes it should be everywhere. It then still has to penetrate some barriers here and there, get into the cells, and that will take a bit longer. I suppose in an hour, we should have a result.”

“How can you see where it goes?” Axl asked. He sat on the stretcher once more and pushed up his sleeve. 

“Luminescence. Should give us a pretty clear picture. Ready?”

Axl nodded and then maybe half a millilitre of waterlike fluid travelled into his vein. 

“OK.” Eskil pulled out the syringe. “I’m not supposed to leave anybody alone down here, so you two do me a favour and don’t destroy anything. I’ll be next door if you need me.”

And with that, they were alone. An hour. What did one do in a situation like this? Just sit around for an hour?

“I thought I would have to lie under the scanner for the entire duration,” Axl said, not sure if he would even have managed to stay still for that long. 

“You OK?” he asked when Slash didn’t answer. 

He hadn’t said much all day, yet. He hadn’t even been visible most of the time, hair hanging over his face and all. Fuck, Duff probably did have it all wrong and Slash wanted to be anywhere but here. 

“Yeah,” he sat down on the stretcher next to him and wiped a handful of curls back. He even smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. You? Feel anything?”

Axl shook his head. He didn’t want to appear whiny, but, fuck, what was moral support for if not to be allowed to feel whiny? He leant against Slash’s arm and when he put it around his shoulder so that he could lean into his embrace. 

“Izzy said, if this doesn’t work out, then I won’t live very long,” Axl said. 

“It will work out,” Slash replied.

Axl wondered if maybe this was what moral support was for. To tell you that things would be OK, even if they will never be. Izzy had never done stuff like that. He had never promised, never given him rose coloured versions of the truth. He hadn’t this time either, had just sat down next to him, given him the bareboned facts and asked him to make a decision. And told him that he would back him up, no matter what, and that they would keep trying until the very last chance was exploited, but that this was definitely the best one they had. 

Today, Axl realized, he did want the lies. He had made his decision, yes, but now he wanted to hear that it would be the right one and that all would be fine. 

“You heard Izzy,” Slash continued. “This guy is fucking brilliant. He still has half a dozen possible solutions up his sleeve. If this one doesn’t work out, we’ll try the next. Until we’ve found one that works.”

“But we might not have enough time for that,” Axl whispered, hoping there were no bugs down here. “I mean, you’re getting close, you said.”

“Yeah,” Slash whispered back. “But doesn’t matter. We can stick around a bit longer if we have to. Once we have a getaway plan, we can always see it through, be it in a week or a month, or whenever. Getting you some type of cure is just as important. If this is the place to get you help, ‘cause Izzy has his connections here, then that’s what we’ll do.” 

Axl didn’t believe one word of this, but it was nice to hear anyway. Yes, he thought, Duff had been right. He started to understand what moral support was about, just somebody who pretended when one didn’t manage to pretend anymore. And he had been an idiot to deny him that type of comfort until today. 

An hour later, Eskil was back. 

“Time for a bit of truth,” he said and pointed towards the scanner. “Let’s have a look.”

Axl wished he could reach for Slash’s hand, but he had his pride. No matter the ‘you can hold his hand’ quip they had gotten the last time, he wasn’t that far down yet. 

“All right, let’s start at the top then. Here, wanna watch, too?” He turned the screen into Axl’s direction so that they both could see the result. “It’s kind of exciting after all.”

Axl wouldn’t have called it exciting. Rather … morbid. He saw the inside of his head with the long spikes poking into his brain. Having the electrodes on the outside of his skull was bad enough, but this looked like something out of a horror movie. Slash seemed to think so, too, ‘cause Axl heard him swallow. 

“OK, guys, luminescence is the key. I’ll set the background to dark now.” 

He typed something into the computer and the image went almost black, safe for a dim outline of the bones. 

“Now look for something bright and you’ve hit the jackpot.”

Axl really wished he would stop talking like this. Maybe it was just some exciting science project for Eskil, but it got a lot less thrilling when your life depended on it.

“Here we’ve got nothing, which is good,” he started. “Now let’s move down, shoulders, nothing, that’s just residues there, in the bloodstream, we can ignore that, ribcage, nothing, nothing, bingo, there it is.”

Axl saw it too, something shimmering pale blue at his …

“What is it?” he asked breathlessly.

Eskil didn’t reply. He checked over the rest of the body, but there was only one luminescing area. He switched the screen to brighter again, and now Axl recognized it, too. 

“Left hip,” Eskil said. “Bone marrow. They really didn’t make it overly complicated, did they?”

He removed the scanner and Axl sat up. 

“Does that mean…,” Now he did reach for Slash’s hand. He was just too nervous not to. 

“Yeah, man, means just that,” Eskil confirmed. “I now need some of those sparkly cells and do a bit of sequencing. That’s gonna hurt and I have no idea if our drugs work on you. They’re all tailored for us, and we are freaks of nature.” He turned to Slash. “You can get something out of your own stash if you want. Would be best to do it now when it’s all still bright and blue and I can make sure I get the right ones. Assuming Jeff will be OK if I just move on, but if not … his problem.”

“Yeah, I can quickly…,” Slash stood up, but Axl didn’t let go of his hand. 

“I don’t need painkillers,” he said. 

Eskil gave him a doubtful look. “I think you should,” he said. “I’ll poke a syringe into your bone. I mean, yeah, it should be tolerable, but still. Why suffer when you don’t have to? Are you afraid that Jeff will get angry? That was just …,” he waved his hand. “He won’t, I can promise you that much.”

“No,” Axl said. “I just don’t need any. And I don’t want any either.”

Eskil looked at Slash, who just shrugged. 

“I can keep still,” Axl insisted. He knew he could.

He got a last long look from both men and then Eskil nodded. 

“OK. If you absolutely want to.” 

Axl nodded. He never accepted drugs, not if there was the slightest chance that he could manage without. 

“Good. You need to lose your pants then.”

It did hurt, yes, but just as he had assumed, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. 

“Keep lying until you’re sure you won’t keel over,” Eskil said while he carried the sample to safety. 

Axl just sat up. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “Can I get dressed?”

“Yeah, see you in … uhm …,” came the voice already out of the next door. “I should have a result tomorrow and then I’ll need a few days to prepare the next probe and … you know what? I’ll let Jeff know. He’s due for more tests himself anyway.”

“Bit strange that guy, huh?” Slash asked when they were back at the XXG. “Want to lie down for a bit?”

Axl didn’t think he needed a break after this. It hadn’t been that bad. 

“He’s kind of OK, I guess,” he replied. At least he hoped. It’s what he had tried to tell himself. “Just makes me feel like some test object. But he treats Izzy the same way, so maybe that’s just his style.”

They didn’t work overly much that day, and eventually, they did something they hadn’t done ever since they had reconciled with Izzy’s family: they went to Axl’s cabin, pulled out the screen and spent over an hour continuing the book they hadn’t had time to finish. 

+++

Izzy didn’t find time to discuss the results with Eskil until after dinner. Axl had given him a short update sometime in the afternoon, and also requested to remove the chip. The place had been chosen perfectly for such a ludicrous request, there had been far too many people around to give him an earful about what he was thinking about that. 

As always, he met Eskil down in the lab, but to his surprise, they weren’t alone. A little girl, three or four years old, with bright blond hair was sitting on his lap. She was making chains by stacking tiny plastic test tubes into each other and didn’t have the time to do more than look up for maybe a second when he entered. 

Eskil was reading something on the screen and unwilling to turn his attention to something else for any longer than the girl had. 

“Oh, there you are,” he said without looking up. “One second.”

Izzy waited. The second lasted for about ten minutes, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t have any exciting plans for the evening. 

Blond children were very rare within their clan and so he tried to spot any of the other typical family traits in her features, the shape of her chin, the nose or the slightly droopy eyelids a lot of them had. He didn’t find much. 

“You don’t know Heidi, yet, do you?” Eskil was finally done with whatever important stuff he was doing and closed down the screen. “Heidi, this is your cousin Jeff. The one who ran away to experience exciting adventures. And now he has returned to tell the tale.”

It granted him another look from the girl, slightly curious this time. 

“I did?” Izzy asked. 

“Yes, you did. Jeff, this is my daughter. I wanted to call her Hydrogen, because one proton and one electron, you know? It’s like … you know. Seemed so fitting somehow. But my wife thought I was nuts, so we agreed on Heidi.”

Izzy looked at him to find out if he was serious, but he probably was. He should start taking bets about the next one being called Heli. 

When no tales about exciting adventures were forthcoming, Heidi returned to her test tubes. Apparently, she shared her father’s interests in science. 

“I’ll just drop her off with her Mom,” Eskil said when Izzy had just decided that she was probably too small to get what they were talking about and therefore posed no threat. “Be back in a minute.”

It was a bit more than a minute.

“Who’s really her father?” he asked when Eskil had returned. 

“What? Me, of course,” he replied. 

“Blond hair?” 

“Spontaneous mutation. Happens all the time.”

“If you say so.” They were silent for a moment. “Are you rubbing it in on purpose or were you too stupid to check the donor DNA?” 

Eskil wrinkled his nose. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Or did he have some other qualities you liked and therefore you decided to look past the hair colour?”

“You’re one to talk, huh?” Eskil leant against the lab bench and fixed him with a cool stare. “Whatever you’re playing here isn’t kosher either, Jeff. Don’t think I don’t know that. Only reason I’m not prodding too much is that you were always one of the few sensible people around here. So I do you the favour and assume you have reasons.”

Izzy did his best to keep his face neutral. 

“If you have to know: I would never do to my own child what we are doing to children here all the time. There was a solution. I used it. By the way, if you look around, you will notice that the number of healthy children has miraculously increased since I was appointed to run this lab. All due to the awesome matchmaking system and my fantastic knowledge about all things concerning reproductive medicine, of course.”

Now Izzy was sure that his expression slipped. “Don’t tell me you’re ….”

“The only thing any decent parent will ever want, is a healthy and happy child, Jeff. And they will do whatever is needed to protect that child. Keep that one in mind.”

For a moment, Izzy realized, his mouth had been hanging open, and so he closed it. He remembered something he had read in the freaking slave training manual he was supposed to review… and still hadn’t started on. About some DNA database, they had compiled on all the slaves that went through their hands, to correlate physical and behavioural features with genetic setup. Part of the data collected had been … weirdly enough … sperm quality. For breeding purposes, but as they didn’t breed slaves at all, it hadn’t made sense. 

“Are you crazy or just suicidal?” he asked. “I mean…

“… and we won’t bring this topic up ever again,” Eskil interrupted him. “Your slave. Position is perfect, just one hip. It’s not even all of the stem cells. They just modified some and injected them into the bone. My next attempt will be to cut out the gene. Should be no issue and has the least setback. If that doesn’t work … and I have no idea why it shouldn’t …, then we stop fucking around, and destroy all stem cells in that one area. A bit more brutal, but serves the same purpose. Which is: done.” 

“That easy?”

“Yeah. It is.” 

Izzy nodded. “Thanks.”

Eskil nodded. “You have something else you want, huh? You have that look.”

Izzy sighed. “You mentioned the chip.” 

“You want it removed?”

“How high is the risk?”

“Reasonable. Really. If it goes wrong, I can always regrow the nerve tissue. Will take a few months, of course, but I don’t expect that to happen. I have to cut off just a tiny bit.”

Izzy didn’t hope it would happen either because they didn’t have ‘a few months’ to regrow nerve tissue. 

“OK. When can you do it?” Izzy still wasn’t convinced, but it would be the only chance Axl would ever get at being truly free. Without a chip detailing his specifics, he would finally be a real boy. 

“We can do it all in one sitting. When I have the probe ready. But tell him, if he really wants that, he has to agree to go to sleep. I’m not digging around in anybody’s backbone without general anaesthetic.”

“I’m sure he will see your point,” Izzy said. 

“I hope so.” 

“You’ll let me know?”

“Sure.”

Izzy said his good-bye and returned to his crew. They were trying for a rare evening together, mainly to discuss the newest development of Aino’s girlfriend having run off. He wasn’t sure yet if it would complicate things or not. 

Instead of using the sitting room, they relocated to the dining room, which was empty after the kitchen had closed. 

“It’s really only Aino now?” Izzy asked while he pulled Duff a little closer. 

He hadn’t seen her all day, but if she was dissolving into tears all the time as Slash claimed, that was probably for the best. If she ran around crying, everybody would only blame it on him. Or maybe hormones. Hormone shots were hell on any mental equilibrium. Yes, he would blame it on those. 

“Looks like it,” Slash said. 

Axl looked as if his thoughts were elsewhere. They probably were. 

“Maybe we should take her along,” Duff said. 

“What for?” Izzy asked back. “Really, I’m not her caretaker. If we take her to Goral, she’ll stay stuck on us, simply because she won’t know what else to do.”

“I agree,” Slash muttered without looking at anybody. “Would only mean trouble to have her along.”

“But… what’s she gonna do here?” Duff asked. “I mean, I don’t have the feeling that she has that many friends.”

“She has some,” Izzy replied. “Or had. She’s a bit guilty by association and all that. Might even be easier once I’m gone. People will feel pity for her … again … And anyway, let’s change the topic, OK? We have enough trouble as it is. She has to solve her own, sorry.”

For example, his next call of duty was looming over his head, only a day away, and he hadn’t decided yet how to play it. Without a camera, he could just spend an hour or so in Aino’s room and then leave. But it might be better to play things safe and, fuck, they had done it before, they would manage. 

“Bracelet,” Izzy said. “How far are you?” 

“Not any closer,” Slash replied. “Because it’s not just that you’re banned, but it’s that everybody who is not explicitly authorized is excluded and any attempt will raise a huge alarm. I thought I might be able to just mute you, but that won’t be enough.”

“Awesome,” Duff said. 

“I do have one other idea, but I still need to tinker around a bit. I might be able to cover a muted signature with an authorized one.”

“So … for example, you cover my signal with Axl’s?” Izzy asked, perking up. 

“Only if you want to leave Axl behind,” Slash replied. 

Axl glared as a reply but softened when Slash smiled at him. 

“Which I wouldn’t stand for. No, I can’t have the same person get on board twice.”

“We need a list of who is authorized,” Duff said. “Then we can check who we might be able to …”

“…hit over the head to steal their signature,” Axl finished for him

“Can you get it?” Izzy asked. “Should also be in the system somewhere.” 

“I’ll do my best.”

They fell silent when somebody on the search for a late-night snack walked past the room and into the kitchen. 

“I think we should try to get everything in place until the solstice,” Izzy said when they were alone again. 

“Solstice?” Slash asked. “This isn’t a planet, chief. There is no solstice.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “It’s just a date. From back in the day, when everybody was still living planet based. And don’t ask me when that was, I’m not good at history. But it used to be some big celebratory sort of thing and as people here are still big on celebratory stuff in general, there will be one. Celebration. And to give it some token importance, they call it ‘solstice’. “

“When will that be?” Duff asked. 

“Next month.”

“Right,” Slash replied. “Talk about realistic timelines.”

“Too early?” Duff asked, looking unhappy. 

‘Months’ were becoming Duff’s personal foe because each month came with another round of … yeah… that. 

“Not really,” Slash admitted. “But why that date?”

“Because everybody will be drunk,” Izzy replied. “And from experience, I can tell you: escape plans work best when everybody is drunk. So I thought, why not try it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it has happened: I have reached the end of what I have written so far. I had hoped to be done before that happened, but, no. So, future updates won't be every day anymore, but whenever they are done. I assume, every 2 - 3 days or so.


	57. Time for the Truth

The next evening, after changing his opinion at least for a dozen times, Izzy decided to not take any chances and had sex with Aino. It wasn’t such a big thing anymore. To his surprise, he was able to do it the way one would normally do it, face to face, and without the maximum possible amount of clothes on. Looking at her red-rimmed eyes, made him feel enough pity to put in a bit of effort. For humanitarian reasons, he told himself. 

“I’m sorry Lis left you like this,” he said when he was done and had put on his clothes. “Really, that was … yeah.”

“Shit, you mean?” 

‘Predictable,’ was the word he had been looking for. 

Aino had dressed and now sat on the corner of the bed. She looked vulnerable, Izzy thought for the first time since they had met again. 

“Why do we even still do it?” she asked. 

“Because we can’t change our story every other week,” Izzy replied. “The problem is still the same. I shouldn’t be here. And so far, I don’t know how to leave again.”

“Right.” She closed the last button of her shirt. “I’m sorry about that. Really.”

Izzy shrugged. It might calm her guilt if he told her his real reason for kicking his heels at this stifling childhood home, but that wouldn’t do. She didn’t belong to the team, never had been, and never would. Yes, seeing the mess she brought onto herself, made him feel sorry, but he still wouldn’t try to solve it for her. She wasn’t part of his crew, and he didn’t want her to be. 

“But …,” she started again, trying to keep the conversation going. “Would it be so bad? I mean, let’s assume for a moment.”

“Assume what?”

Izzy knew where she was heading, but she had to understand that he would never go there. 

“Let’s say we get this baby. I mean, afterwards we would be …”

“What, Aino? Free again?” Izzy snorted.

“We used to fit together well, Jeff. You know we did. We could try to …”

“We were children, Aino. Forget it. And you know I’m not on the market.”

“But you wouldn’t have to…,”

“Do yourself a favour and forget it,” Izzy said. “You’re upset, I get that. And looking for a way to give this … big step into a giant heap of shit some kind of meaning. But, sorry, there isn’t any. You put everything you have onto the wrong horse. There won’t come anything good out of it. Maybe in the long run, but not now. You and me … that’s never gonna happen, OK?”

“You could have put it a bit nicer.” Aino forced out a wry smile. “I know. I just thought, if it’s what’s everybody wants, then maybe it’s not as wrong as you and me have always assumed.”

“It is. Wrong.” Izzy put on his boots and stood up. “See you tomorrow, OK?”

“Same time, same place,” she said and flopped backwards onto the bed. 

+++

Axl’s next anti-toxin treatment was scheduled a few days later, and Slash was almost glad. It gave him a reason to be nervous. To his relief, Aino hadn’t addressed their … indiscretion at all. If anything, she seemed relieved that he didn’t try to bring it up either. Ignoring the whole sorry affair would be the best, he decided. It had been a mistake, and mistakes happened. Nobody would profit if they created a drama about it. 

Axl didn’t seem to notice his disturbance either. Understandably, he was about as nervous as the rest of them together. 

This time Slash and Axl descended to the lab on their own. They had picked up the required drugs from the XXG to ensure that Axl wasn’t getting anything he hadn’t agreed to. 

“We’ll do it in the cleanroom,” Eskil said. “Sorry, but you can’t come along, Slash.”

Axl stiffened. 

Eskil turned to Axl. “Won’t take more than maybe twenty minutes all in all and I’ll show you the results on the screen afterwards, OK?”

The seconds ticked by until Axl finally nodded. 

“All right,” Eskil said. “Let’s get started then.”

Slash caught a last desperate look from Axl before the two of them vanished through a door, and left him to sit around and wait. 

True to his word, Eskil was back about half an hour later and dropped a little plastic bag onto the lab bench. Slash picked it up and looked at the tiny, oval object in there. 

“Have him read it out or he won’t believe it’s his,” Eskil said. “I’ve never dealt with somebody who was this suspicious about ... everything. Although, if you look at him, I guess I get it. I suppose you won’t tell me what’s going on here either, will you?”

“Going on?” Slash asked, doing his best to take a leaf out of Duff’s book and look dumb. 

“You know,” Eskil said, after giving him a long, bemused look. “The other one, he’s better at feigning stupid. I’ve met him only once. During one of those refreshing meetings with Jeff and Aino and the old man to discuss some … ehm … technicalities. Kid was brilliant, actually. Very convincing. I only knew it had to be phony because no way would Jeff ever get that smitten with a dimwit. You? Could use some practice. Maybe he can give you a lesson.”

Slash thought for an answer and came up empty. On the one hand, this guy was doing a shit ton of forbidden stuff for Axl, but on the other hand, he was heavily enmeshed with the ruling class and better not to be trusted. They were spending far too much time around him and Slash had the feeling that he was picking up on more than he should know. 

“Axl will wake up in about ten minutes. I suppose you should be there. That way, second door to the left.” Eskil waved vaguely into the direction he had come back from. 

“What should I do when he wakes up?”

Eskil shrugged. “If he’s OK to get up, come over and I’ll show him what I’ve done. I also took some liberties and numbed the area.” He pointed at his neck. “I know, he didn’t want that, but … really.” He shook his head. “Anyway, might make looking left and right a bit uncoordinated for the rest of the day. Afterwards he should be fine.”

Slash fled the room and found Axl still and a bit pale under a blanket. He realized that this was the first time he had ever seen him asleep, at least if he didn’t count that one situation where he had been woken up by a nightmare. He looked peaceful, his face was relaxed, and there it was again: this weird feeling of tenderness that sometimes overcame him. 

He didn’t have much time to ponder his feelings because Axl did wake up, not like one would expect a normal person coming to after anaesthesia, but with a jolt. He almost fell off the stretcher when he tried to sit up. Slash caught him and held him upright. 

“What…,” Axl gasped. “Where …”

“All good,” Slash said. “You’re fine. All worked out.”

“Slash?” Axl asked. “Oh. Thank God.” And then he sagged into himself and almost fell off the stretcher a second time. 

It took another few minutes before he was clear and while Slash thought he should lie down for a bit, Axl had other plans. 

“He wanted to show me,” he said. “That the chip is really gone.”

“It’s here.” Slash held up the bag. “We can read it out later.”

Axl took it and eyed it carefully. “He could have just made a duplicate.”

“I’m sure we can find a scanner somewhere on this ship,” Slash replied. “If it doesn’t beep, then it’s gone.”

“You can mute a chip for a while,” Axl replied. “We don’t know this guy. He might try to get into Izzy’s good graces. You know that.”

“OK,” Slash conceded. Anything else was pointless. If Axl wanted to be suspicious, then Axl would be suspicious. “Let’s go and get visual proof.”

“My neck feels weird,” Axl complained, while he dressed. He hopped off the stretcher, almost fell over his feet, and staggered next to Slash out of the room. 

“That’s because somebody had a pair of tweezers inside your spinal cord. I heard people’s necks do often feel weird after such an event.”

“Stop making fun of me,” Axl muttered. 

“I wouldn’t dream of ever doing that. Come on now.”

They returned to the lab where Eskil was busy with something else. Did that guy ever take a break? They waited for him to finish when suddenly Izzy appeared in the room. 

“Already over?” he asked. He smiled a little when Axl nodded and held up the bag. 

“Anybody else we need to invite to the show?” Eskil asked. “You are aware that this is a working environment, right? Come on, let’s get the scanner started.”

There was nothing to be nervous about because they all knew what they would see: nothing. Slash still couldn’t stop feeling tense. 

“As you can see,” Eskil said, sounding a bit tired. “No chip. Nerve tissue is OK, as you already know, for you wouldn’t be moving if it wasn’t.”

“What about the gene therapy?” Izzy asked. 

“Come back tomorrow. Then I’ll inject another probe and we’ll see how much of the gene is still left. Hopefully nothing. In which case, I expect a thank-you pie. Cherry. And a bottle of brandy, because dealing with you guys makes me need one.”

“You’ll get one,” Izzy said, while Axl climbed off the stretcher. “You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”

“Tell me something new.” Eskil shut off the system. “And, pie or not, you owe me for … ever, I’d say.”

Axl’s expression hardened as if this was the other shoe he had expected to drop since the beginning. Izzy only grinned. 

“That I do,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

Duff was hovering in the corridor in front of the labs. When he spotted them come out, all of them walking, a smile spread over his face, one of those Slash hadn’t seen in far too long. 

“I can’t hug you, can I?” he asked. “I mean, surgery and all?” 

“Give it a day,” Izzy said. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

But then Duff hugged Izzy instead because he clearly had to hug somebody at that moment. 

“We can’t celebrate, can we?” he asked. 

“You guys can go to the ship and celebrate,” Izzy said, but Axl shook his head. 

“Not without you,” he said. “We can have a proper celebration when we’re out of here. It’s only one month after all.”

One month, Slash thought. He would survive for one month. He simply had to make sure that it was the last one. 

+++

The next day, when they searched for the toxin DNA once more, Axl was confident that he was turning into a professional regarding examinations. He wasn’t even nervous when he was poked with yet another needle. And being scanned was everyday routine at that point. 

“Why is everything blue?” he asked when he saw the image. There was a faint hue overshadowing his whole body, barely noticeable, but there. That couldn’t be good, right? The display should be clear. 

“Because the probe doesn’t have a destination. No gene means it can’t dock.” Eskil let the scanner hover over his hip, but it was the same shade of blue as the rest of his body.

“So that means…,” Axl sat up. 

“Success, I’d say.” He switched off the scanner. 

“But there was still some blue,” Axl said, not sure it could be that easy. 

“That’s just background noise. It wasn’t denser than anywhere else. Given the halftime, you should be toxin-free within two weeks. If you feel comfortable to part with a bit more blood, I can do a final check. Your blood should be clear.”

Axl thought about it. It wasn’t a necessary test, but one that would be good for his peace of mind. 

“OK,” he said. 

“Good.” Eskil stood up. “Then you’ve got a break from me. Oh, and if you see Jeff somewhere, tell him if he skips another appointment, I’ll get him in trouble. And I mean it.”

“Will he do that?” Axl asked Slash when they were outside. 

“Probably not. There’s something between those two that’s going back to … I suppose when they were still kids. And with all the shit he’s done for us … No. He won’t get Izzy into trouble.” 

It took a few more minutes for Axl to let sink in what had happened. First, the chip was gone. Now the toxin was gone. 

“You know what this means?” he suddenly asked. 

“What?” Slash grinned at him. “That you’re no longer dying from slow-paced poisoning?”

“That, too,” Axl replied. “But … we’ve got two years’ worth of shots on the ship. Do you have an idea how much money that is? I mean, we can sell it! We’ll be rich!”

“If we find somebody who needs it.”

“There will be somebody,” Axl said lightly. Suddenly he felt optimistic. Elated. As if he could fly if he tried. He felt the way Duff looked when he got to play in the herb garden. “You know what?” he asked when he was done analysing his feelings. “I think I’m happy.”

+++

The next weeks passed in a blur of planning and preparation. Duff would have liked to run around in a flurry of activities, but as they were supposed to pretend that everything was normal, that was impossible. 

He spent a lot of time on the XXG now, trying to not make it obvious that they were doing a bit more than checking over a ship in dry dock. One day, he smuggled his herb plants on board and deposited them under a grow light next to the drum kit. Axl had rolled his eyes, of course, but some things were important. 

Slash experimented with personal signatures until he was able to mute and overlay them at whim. After a lot of fiddling around, he even found a solution to silence their slave bracelets, which was a scary thought because that shouldn’t be possible at all. When Duff entered the ship for the first time as Axl and managed to get into the system under the wrong persona, he logged out and in again at least a dozen times because he couldn’t believe it. 

Now they needed to find somebody they could … hit over the head, as Axl liked to say. Duff hoped there would be a gentler way to steal an identity, but if he had to do it, he would commit to hitting without any qualms. 

Two weeks later, Axl’s final blood test came back clear and now it was really difficult to not get into a celebratory mood. Even Izzy had difficulties to hide his happiness. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to get the pie,” he said. “I might have to bribe somebody for that.”

In the end, the solution was a lot easier. Duff asked Youla to show him how it was done and spend a day dusted in flour. It was awesome. Never ever had he created any type of pastry. It was a new world opening up in front of him. He would have to stack up on flour, once they were back on the XXG. Urgently. 

Duff was a bit nervous when he carried the pie down to the lab. He had thought, he would hand it over to one of the others, and they would deliver the fruit of his labour, but Izzy had told him to not be an idiot and do it himself. 

“You made it, you deliver it,” he had said. 

And so Duff found himself in front of the lab again. He was about as nervous as that time he had been waiting for the outcome of Axl’s chip removal surgery. He activated the intercom and expected a question about who he was, what he wanted, followed by a command to go to hell and take his pie with him. Instead, the door slid open. 

“Hi,” he said, seeing for the first time the interior of the room where all the action of the last weeks had taken place. 

He had spotted Eskil from afar a few times, and once they had been thrown together for a horribly embarrassing meeting with Aino and Izzy’s Dad. It had been one of the longest hours of his life. He had been tempted to count the hms, but that would have distracted him from looking blank, and therefore he had abstained. 

“Izzy told me to bring pie.” 

He held up the offering. Eskil started some complicated-looking apparatus and came over. 

“He’s doesn’t think he’s getting out of the brandy, does he?”

“No. He said he’ll manage, but has to tap into some type of secret resource first.”

“As long as he keeps it in mind. Look, Duff, was it, right?”

Duff nodded. 

“Duff, there’s a breakroom over there.” He pointed down the corridor in front of the lab. “Do me a favour. Take the pie there and fight off any lab techs until I’m there.”

“OK,” Duff said. “I’ll defend it with my life.”

“I hope it won’t come to that, but it might. See you in five.”

Axl was right, Duff thought, the man was weird. He found the break room, filled with a group of people who were chatting and drinking coffee. 

“Oh, pie!” one of them exclaimed. 

“I’m supposed to not let anybody eat it,” he said, hoping they would accept a ‘no’ from a slave. 

“Says who?” one of them asked and Duff wondered if he really would breathe his last breath over a piece of pastry.

“Says the boss!” he heard a voice from the corridor. “Get to work. Duff and me are going to have a cup of coffee. Alone.”

“We do?” Duff asked. 

There was a bit of complaining and demands for leftover pie, but then they were alone. 

“Yes, we do. Sit.”

He closed the door and before Duff had a chance to reply, he found a mug of coffee in front of him, followed by two plates and forks. 

“I don’t think I should eat it,” Duff said weakly. “I mean, I made it, but …”

“If I say so, then you should.”

Eskil heaped pie onto both plates and dug in as if he hadn’t seen food all day. Duff carefully tried a mouthful. Yes, he had reason to feel proud of himself. It was awesome. Cookies were fine, but this was better. He saw a lot of pies in his future, now that he knew how to make them. Flour, he reminded himself. They should add an extra section to the shopping lists just for baking supplies. 

“So, Duff,” Eskil started. Of course, they weren’t here to eat pie, he wanted something. “You’re the one who tamed the untameable one. That’s quite an accomplishment. How did you manage?”

“I…,” Duff’s second fork full of pie hovered in the air, directly in front of his mouth. “I … don’t … I…”

Eskil watched him as if he was still hopeful that an answer would come forth. Maybe he was an optimist. 

Duff closed his mouth and decided that looking dumb might be the way out. 

“Do you like it here?” Eskil continued as if nothing had happened. “A bit more room after Jeff’s tiny ship, huh?”

“Yes,” Duff replied. This was an easy question. “Yes, it’s … I’ve never seen anything like this so … yes.”

“Hm.” Eskil kept eating. “Do you like Jeff? I mean, after all, you’re his …,” he made some vague movements with his fork. “Can be a shit job, I suppose. Moody bastard that he is. Or do you like him enough to take up with his miserable ass?”

“Yes, I do,” Duff said, not having to think about the right answer.

“See?” Eskil said. “That was an honest ‘yes’. Try to get a bit of that …” he waved cutlery through the air once again, “… whatever it is … into your reply if you want to be convincing.”

“I’m sorry,” Duff stuttered. 

“No need. I just wanted to check if you can lie well enough to sell me bullshit. You can’t. Which is good. Because we’ve got to talk.”

“We do?” Duff considered to deliberately choke on a bite of pie. But this guy was head of the labs, he would resurrect him and continue his interrogation. 

“Yes. Because I don’t manage to get one honest word out of Jeff. You like him, so I have my hopes up that you can hammer some sense into his skull. I would need a blowtorch to get anything in there, but hopefully, he’ll listen to you.”

“I’m just …”

“No, you’re not just,” Eskil interrupted him. “You may be a lot of things, but none of those is ‘just’. Doesn’t matter. Listen. I thought I knew what you guys were planning to do. Wasn’t so difficult with all the chip removal and toxin elimination. By the way, want me to check yours, too? Maybe you guys are lucky twice.”

“I …” Duff stuttered. 

“Full sentences are not your strength, huh? I thought I knew. Because I was pretty sure that settling down and starting a family was not the reason for Jeff’s sudden return. Not when he isn’t even able to. Start a family, I mean. Unless he’s considering adoption. Oh, and tell him, I might feel a trifle offended that he thought I was that stupid. “

How did he manage to eat and talk at that speed, Duff wondered. He was getting tired trying to follow all those leaps and bounds. 

“By the way, your DNA is absolutely OK. I did a check for the most common aberrations just for the fun of it, but, yeah, looks good. Sadly, you’re a bit too tall and too blond for us here, or I would ask you for a donation to our community project.”

Duff was feeling hot and cold at the same time. It should result in feeling lukewarm but didn’t. 

“So, I thought, OK, let’s cover up for a few months until this is all over and done and Jeff is gone to ... yeah. There. No problem. Only now … and here comes the big question … why the fuck is Aino pregnant? How did she even manage? No, don’t answer that, I know how she managed, but what is the whole purpose behind that? Because you guys are seriously throwing me for a loop here. Was it an accident? Because if it was one, then I was wrong and you guys are indeed stupid. Or does Jeff want to pass the baby off as his personal hellspawn? Which would mean he wants to stay, which would surprise me. So, what the everloving fuck is he doing?”

“I …. She is pregnant?” Duff exclaimed. “How?”

“So not you?”

“Definitely not!” Duff sputtered, realizing that he had confirmed each and every suspicion about the faked baby-making process with one single word. 

“Don’t look so offended. It’s not that much of an arbitrary idea, given the weird things you are all doing here.” Eskil pushed his empty plate away. “Kid, you know how to make pie. This ... is awesome. The lab techs will pester you for more. Tell Jeff that he has to come clean. At least if he wants my help. And he will need it. Urgently. We only have a couple of days to come up with a practicable solution for this newest complication. So, want me to look at your chip?” 

Duff tried to keep up with the constant changes of topic. Then he nodded. If there was a chance to get rid of the chip, he should take it. 

Unfortunately, they were not lucky twice. 

“Sorry to inform you,” Eskil said and pushed the screen into his direction, “but this is a perfect example for an accurately placed chip.”

Duff sat up, not disappointed by the result. 

“I suppose this was injected more recently?”

“About a year ago.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. With children, it sometimes grows out of place. I guess you’ll have to live with it. Or spent a year with very, very restricted movement abilities, until somebody manages to regrow enough nerve tissue to repair the damage.”

“No, thanks,” Duff said. It meant that, once he had passed the border, he would not be able to return. Nothing more. Which he had known before. 

“Yeah, probably not worth it. They don’t care that much about chips at Goral I heard. So, run along to your master and tell him, there’s stuff to discuss. And he’d better bring that bottle he promised me. Let him know that I don’t care about his delivery problems.”


	58. This is not a chapter

This is no new chapter, but just one giant comment, because: 

Wow. When I woke up this morning, I was a bit blown away by all your comments. So, instead of answering each single comment as I usually do, I’ll try to explain a bit, even if it’s probably a bit strange to have a discussion about a story in the middle of the story. 

Feel free to chime in and have your own opinions because I’m definitely no expert here. 

First of all, I want to say: all feelings from “I hope they manage to make up” to “kick his cheating ass to the curb” are justified. How we feel about a certain situation depends to a huge part on our previous experiences, and so different people react very differently to the same thing. Doesn’t mean one reaction is more justified than the next. 

Also, just because I had something in mind while writing it, doesn’t mean that my ideas are more relevant than what any of you guys think. I am of the firm conviction that, as soon as you make a story available to readers, what happens to it is no longer up to you because it happens within the reader’s head. That’s the nice thing about stories, they lead to lots of new stories, even if most of them will never be written down. 

OK. The one point that astonished me the most was, that it did get this huge reaction because compared to all the atrocities in this story, it seems to be a fairly minor point. 

To me, the ethically worst part of the whole fic is when Izzy pressures Duff to have sex that very first time. That was sexual coercion without any excuses and it bothered me a lot. It still does, by the way. 

My excuse is that nobody who has made actual experiences with sexual coercion in any form will read a story like this, which treats such a topic with so little care, therefore I assume (and hope) that for all of you, this is just a fanfiction trope we have encountered time and again, and nothing that will ever touch your real life. 

Also: Duff and Izzy are pretty much your run of the mill fictional characters. We have already established that Duff is too good for this world anyway, and Izzy, while having a few hang ups in the beginning, is as close to hero as you can get. So, just like Duff, we forgive him all his previous atrocities. (And, yes, that keeps giving me sleepless nights, somehow because Duff really shouldn’t.) 

Cheating, however, that’s something a lot of us may be familiar with (either in person or via friends and family), so it hits a nerve and provokes a much stronger reaction. And maybe this strong reaction shows that what I have written here is close to real life. (Which would make me happy.)

And Axl is … yeah, Axl. Pretty much the victim who refuses to stay a victim and I think that will be important for the solution of this problem: Axl’s whole life is about refusing to be just a victim and obtain as much autonomy as he can, so I think, he will find a way, to not just be poor, helpless, and betrayed. He will find his own way to deal with this, and it might be a surprising way. To be honest, I have my ideas, but I’m still shifting focus and outcome in my head, so, yeah, Axl might still find a way to surprise me. Which would be cool. I love it, if my characters surprise me. 

OK, let’s start with the Slash/Axl thing: 

Slash is the only non-original character in this story, who is based on actual human beings and therefore behaves like a lot of people do: not overly invested in the problems of the world for as long as they don’t touch him directly, a bit careless, pretty irresponsible sometimes, well meaning, although sometimes in a slightly naïve way, and, yeah, sometimes he is egoistic and weak. But not always because he can also be awesomely caring. He has this really bad habit of not thinking much about complicated issues and so they tend to bite him in the ass. 

I also tried to let a bit of real-life Slash seep into the character and (sorry) I’m really convinced that Slash is not the overly faithful type. He is definitely careless, irresponsible, hedonistic, and sometimes a bit egoistic (yeah, Slash, I read your book! That’s what you get out of it.). I still think he’s a very interesting person and probably somebody you can have a lot of fun with. But he’s no saint. 

But back to the story: 

I might mention that this is not the first time he got some woman pregnant without meaning to and a lot (really a lot) of chapters back, there was this: 

_“There is one thing you should keep in mind,” Aino said. “Just for the future, I mean. Contraception is not only for women. Really, you didn’t even ask me.”_

Yes, dear readers: there you should have known that it would happen: I do tend to make good on promises. ; ) 

And that doesn’t even touch the question of STDs, Slash, you moron. Kill yourself, but not your partner! But I just hope that’s no issue here because if it was, it would hit not only Slash and Axl, but also Duff and Izzy. 

He did get a bit of an apology here: he was upset, he was drunk and he did not seek out sex himself. It was pushed into his face and (did I mention he is pretty weak when facing temptation) he did not say ‘no’. On the other hand, if he wasn’t weak in the face of temptation, there would be no Axl/Slash at all because the responsible thing would have been to NOT kiss Axl when he did. 

For me the biggest excuse (kind of) is not even so much being drunk (it is my personal opinion that you should not drink if you do stupid stuff when drunk) but that Slash always had this nagging feeling that Axl would exchange him in a heartbeat for Izzy. And now for Duff, too. Which is not so far fetched because Axl is often pining a little bit after Izzy. Mainly in a “wanting what is not attainable” kind of way (and it would be a horrible idea anyway), but still. If my lover was having this secret crush on who is practically my best friend at this point (captain or not), that would be a pretty big thorn in my flesh, too. 

Another problem with Slash/Axl is: Slash prefers to not think too much about unpleasant stuff while Axl thinks everything into tiny pieces, but doesn’t dare address his millions of concerns. As they seem to not talk to each other, maybe Doctor Duff should add couple therapy to his portfolio, have them come for consultation once per week and explain stuff to both of them. And the more I think about it, that would be a really good idea. They should pay him for that, of course, and it would be the start of his new career once they are at Goral. 

That being said: Slash knew what he was getting into when he started this, and Izzy warned him of roadblocks galore. Maybe, if they hadn’t been all under constant stress, he would have reacted less … uhm … impulsive. Hard to say. 

OK. So. What should Axl do? Honestly? That’s a really difficult question because there is not wrong or right. 

All in all, Slash is doing really good with Axl. He knows his background and tries very, very hard to accommodate it. That’s a lot more than most people are willing to do, especially if it means they have to make so many concessions. 

On the other hand: yes, cheating tends to be something that happens not only once. It is a weakness and weaknesses are hard to overcome. And it goes in line with the rest of Slash in this story, who likes quick, no string attached sex in space ports and even forgets to ask the woman in question for her name. 

So, yes, I would say, if Axl wants to continue their relationship, he will likely have to deal with similar situations again (hopefully without child this time because here it really turns from ‘ups, stupid’ to self-centred, irresponsible idiot). 

At least that’s my experience with cheating. And you’d be surprised how many stories like this I get told. I might train dogs for a living, but at least in case of real problems (mainly aggressive or even dangerous dogs) I often feel like a psychotherapist. I spend about as much time on helping people to deal with their emotional turmoil (having a problem dog can destroy complete families) than with trying to solve the dog-problem. 

And sometimes (and not even that rarely) clients suddenly start to tell me their whole life story, including cheating partners, estranged children, etc. More than once I spent complete training hours not working with the dog at all, but just sitting down and listening while the floodgates suddenly burst wide open, and tried to say something helpful. And I’m not a psychologist, so I have no training how to deal best with this. But one thing I have learned from this: there are always two sides. But, yeah, more than once I have thought “I would kick his ass to the curb”, when somehow people don’t. It is never this easy. 

So, yes, what I write here for the ‘real’ people like Slash, Aino and Lis, is based on real life experiences. Izzy and Duff and Eskil are a lot more fictional hero material. 

Therefore, for Axl the question would have to be: can he live with it if Slash missteps here and there (because he likely will) for as long as he can be sure that Slash will always come back to him? That’s a decision he has to make, and personally I think both, yes and no, can be the right one. 

It might not be so difficult when they are living 99% of the time on a ship without much outside contact, but, yeah, who knows how they are going to live in future? Maybe there will be more people around, more temptation, more opportunities. If that is a dealbreaker, then Axl should end it. And maybe settle for a “let’s be friends”. Because I still think they do make great friends. They might even make better friends if the sexual aspect is out of it because I don’t think they harmonize overly well. 

It is a bit like Izzy said: there was no real alternative if they wanted a relationship at all, so they tried to make the best out of it. That’s not the worst there is, but it might change when there suddenly are alternatives that might or might not be a better fit. It’s difficult to say. 

The nice thing is that Axl now can make such a decision because he will have all the opportunities everybody else has, too. He has suddenly experienced a huge change in what to expect from life and that might at least be uplifting enough to not break into a thousand pieces about this. 

Yeah, so that leaves Aino, that egoistic, cheating, mean little bitch!

OK. That’s more difficult. She is all that. But I do get how she ended there. (No, I’m not making excuses for her behaviour, just explanations). 

She is in a situation that is a bit different from the other four. She was part of a team, too, but is suddenly alone, she has no idea how to get out of her mess and she is probably aware that the others are planning their own escape somehow, but do not include her. On the other hand, as she is totally stuck, she might think Izzy is just as stuck as she is. 

I’m not touching the Aino/Slash situation too much at the moment because I don’t consider that a relationship. Aino might be more guilty because she was making the first step, on the other hand, she was the one not in a relationship at that point, so why should she care? 

But Slash and Izzy are both in a relationship, so she should have stayed away! Yes, she should have. But unlike Izzy, she has not made the turn around from slave trader and slave owner to somebody who now rejects slavery. That means: Duff and Axl are second class persons for her. She may not show it anymore because she has understood that it won’t win her brownie points with Izzy, but that doesn’t mean, her own convictions have changed. In fact, it would surprise me if they had because she had no reasons to even question them. 

Izzy had Axl for years and didn’t question his own convictions. He had to fall in love to do that. (Yes, hero or not, Izzy is the true evil character here! Somehow, I failed to make that clear. ; ) .

But even if she did see them as true persons: trying to get somebody to end a relationship and start one with themselves is something people do all.the.fucking.time. Doesn’t make it better, but it’s nothing unusual. And I suppose, that’s again why it makes a lot of people so upset. It’s close to real life and maybe even something we all fear a little bit. To fall in love and have somebody else try to pry that person away from us. 

Aino’s situation is a bit special for a few more reasons: while (hopefully) nobody here has made experiences with arranged marriages, there are a lot of places in the world where they happen. And if those people have the feeling that there is no way out of it (currently there is no way out for Aino) they tend to arrange themselves with it. Part of that arranging is trying to conform to what others request and putting pressure on the non-conforming part. That’s what she is doing, trying to get Izzy to conform because it would make her life better. 

She has reached a point where she has stopped to hope for a way out and therefore has started to arrange herself within the trap, she is stuck in. Getting Izzy to do the same would make it easier for her, so she tests the waters by bringing it up. It is a survival tactic and I like to think of Aino as somebody who does whatever she considers necessary to survive (in the greater sense, not just as in actually keeping alive) without too many qualms. 

She convinced Jari to run away with her because he had a crush on her and was convenient. That she estranged him from his family that way didn’t really matter to her. She pulled Izzy back into her shit when she needed him. I don’t think she is a shallow as Lis (and definitely not so full of herself), but she does have a ruthless streak. And I think all she did before shows that. I do think, if you are on her side, then she would not betray you (not the way Lis did), but if you’re on the other side, then you’re fair game. 

Is that an excuse? No. Is it egoistic, manipulative, petty, backstabbing? Yes, definitely. But, again, people tend to be all that. Most of the time we simply don’t realize because part of society is to hide those parts of ourselves and because most of the time we live lives where we can keep those character traits in check. 

Or, if we’re really nice people, we honestly try our best to not do it. 

Especially people in situations that are threatening their existence (and Aino is in such a situation) tend to become very egoistic. That’s the way how you manage to survive. I know it’s not a very popular opinion, but I think the lacquer of civilization and what we consider appropriate social and ethically correct behaviour, is very thin and can be scratched off as soon as the situation becomes dire. Every civil war situation shows how thin in extreme. 

I sometimes amuse myself by wondering which of my neighbours would turn against me in a heartbeat if all of a sudden, we were standing on different (ethnic, religious, whatever stupid difference) side in a civil war. And the worst is: I can’t really say. 

What I did learn in life however is that a lot of people lose interest in you when they realize that you’re not useful anymore. Most relationships we have tend to be very superficial and end as soon as there is nothing to get out of them anymore (and that something can just be to go out for a drink and have some fun together). 

So, no, at this point in time she does not care for anybody but herself. That doesn’t make her a nice person. But I do think, it makes her a realistic one, and I have tried to write real people.

I think that there is such an uproar now (which I love, you guys are great, really!), might show that I have managed somehow. So, yeah, it’s awesome how invested and interested to guys are in this story that there is such a nuanced discussion about how the characters should move on from here. 

Oh, and regarding the baby: as I only just mentioned its existence, I won’t go into it at this point.


	59. The Messenger from Hell

Somehow, Duff had turned into the messenger from hell. 

“Why is she pregnant?” Izzy asked. 

They were alone in their room again and they should be going through the list of people that were suitable for identity theft. Time was running through their fingers, and they were having yet another conversation that shouldn’t be happening. 

“I have no idea,” Duff replied. “We ate pie and then he dropped all this stuff onto me.”

“Yeah, that’s his preferred method. Confuse you until you tell the truth by sheer mistake.”

“He also knows that we want to go to Goral. And everything else, Izzy.”

Izzy wasn’t as surprised as Duff. He and Eskil had their patented modus operandi: just pretend you don’t know what you’re not supposed to know. 

When Izzy had been a teenager and slowly gotten fed up with living his life under a microscope, Eskil had been one of the few people who had not berated him about how he should be happy that he was considered important enough to warrant all the extra attention he got. Sure, he had just been a lab tech then and didn’t have any influence, but Izzy had liked to visit him and complain about the unfairness of being vivisected for the good of clan and community. Coming home and finding out that Eskil was head of the labs had suddenly turned their plans so much more feasible.

“He’s not exactly stupid. That’s the problem with him.” Izzy stood up. 

“Where are you going?” Duff followed suit. 

“Talking to Aino,” he replied. “Stay here, will you? I don’t think I’m gonna take long.” 

There was a good chance that she wasn’t pregnant at all and that Eskil had just said it to throw Duff for a loop. Still, he had to check and he had to do it now before anybody else was made privy to the newest complication. 

He found Aino in her room. When she opened and noticed who her visitor was, she sighed and made a step to the side to let him in. 

“You already know?” she asked while the door closed. 

Maybe his face had given him away. 

“Eskil told me. So, it’s true? You’re really pregnant?”

“Yes. Early stage of course. Very early. Might still go wrong.”

“Might not.”

“Might not,” she admitted. 

Aino turned his back on him and walked over to sit on her bed. 

“Congratulation,” she said. “You’re gonna be a father.”

“No, I’m not,” Izzy replied. 

That made her look up. 

“I saw the lab report,” she said. “It’s positive.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Izzy leant against her desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Question is, who’s the baby daddy because I can promise you, it’s not me.”

“Jeff,” she rubbed a hand over her eyes. “If this is all about what you said last time, that you don’t want to …”

“It’s got nothing to do with that,” Izzy interrupted her. “You slept with somebody else. I want to know whom. Not because I’m jealous. I’m not. In fact, I give a fuck. But we need to play this somehow and therefore I need to know who it is.”

“Jeffrey,” Aino repeated, “I …”

“Stop fucking lying to me,” Izzy hissed. “I’m not in the mood to play games. You had sex with somebody, and I need to know how it is.”

“Oh, fuck you, it was only once,” she snapped. “It’s probably still yours. Chances are much higher.”

“Chances suck and you know that. So who was it?” 

“You don’t want to know.”

“Try me.”

She fixed him with a glare. 

“Slash.”

“Sl… no.” Izzy stared at her, then looked at the floor, then up again. He tried to gauge her expression, looked for signs that she was bullshitting him. She had to. 

“Just once,” she said, and, no, she wasn’t lying. She looked far too embarrassed for that. “After Lis had left me. I was drunk, he happened to come by, we got a bit more drunk, and then … really, it was five minutes of fumbling around in the dark. I don’t think that even counts.”

“How stupid are you?” Izzy asked. “Of course, that counts.”

“I’m still sure it’s yours.” 

“And I’m sure it’s not.” Izzy closed his eyes. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist onto the desk

Then he took a deep breath and tried to get the sudden body temperature increase he seemed to suffer from under control. Slash. 

“Of all the fucking people you had to pick the one who has actually …”

Axl, he thought. Oh God! He had to keep it away from Axl until they were in the clear. In fact, they had to keep it away from everybody. The Solstice was in three days. They should be able to keep everything under wraps for three more days. Yeah, no problem, should work out. Only it didn’t solve the issue that there would be a child, one that was supposed to be his but was actually Slash’s. 

Why couldn’t she have waited for a week with that freaking pregnancy test? Then they wouldn’t have known at all. But, no, she had to run to Eskil the first day her fucking period was late. 

“You’re in denial,” Aino said. “I still say chances are higher that it’s yours.”

“Aino,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice under control. “I am completely infertile. And you got fucking hormone shots. So as soon as you came in contact with actual viable sperm …”

“You are … no, not completely.” She shook her head. “Yeah, I know, bad quality and all, but …”

“As good as,” Izzy interrupted her, not bothering to explain the real issue to her. “Trust me. No way would I have managed within two months. No fucking way.”

She took a deep breath. “That … is not good.”

“Not really,” Izzy confirmed. “We need to talk to Eskil. Tomorrow morning. First thing. Find … a solution.”

“I need to tell Slash.”

“No,” Izzy said. “I’ll do it.”

“Should be me.”

“No, shouldn’t be you. My crew, my responsibility. Always has been like that.”

She sagged into herself. 

“What will he say?”

“He can’t be the father,” Izzy said. “You know he can’t. At least not officially.”

She looked back up at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. 

“You have something in mind.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Izzy said. “Point is, you piled up the heap of shit your sitting on even higher, and I feel a bit miffed that I’ll be the one who has to solve it. So, do me at least the favour and don’t pretend that this is something we’re in together. In fact, I could rat you two out and I’d be out of this whole debacle for good.”

She blanched. “You’re not going to do that.”

“No,” Izzy confirmed. “But not for your sake. Not even for Slash’s. But it will pull in the rest of us, and I have to make sure that doesn’t happen. So, I’ll sleep over it and we’ll talk to Eskil tomorrow.”

“OK.” That tiny bit of hope was back. 

Izzy took the long way home, once across half of the ship, before he found himself in front of his room. His heart beat a little slower and he wasn’t sweating as much anymore, at least if he banned Slash’s face from his thoughts. And Axl’s. 

He couldn’t even say how Axl would take it. That was the problem with Axl, one simply never knew. He could blow up over inanities and be totally cool in the face of absolute disaster. Taking any chances, however, was not a good idea, not when they were so close to leaving. Better to play it safe and keep him out the loop for now. And therefore, he had to keep Duff out, too, for Duff would not be able to keep his dismay under wrap. 

“And?” Duff asked as soon as he spotted him. “You look a bit upset.”

“My wife cheated on me,” Izzy said, trying to bring up a convincing smirk. “Of course I’m upset.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure you cheated on her, too,” Duff patted the mattress next to him. “Who is the lucky guy? Do we know him?”

“What? Yeah, no. I mean, it’s not that important. I can’t tell you at the moment, OK?”

“OK,” Duff said. “What are we gonna do now? I mean, do we have to do something? Like, take her along?” 

“We are not taking her along,” Izzy said. 

That was out of the question. If Slash wanted to play Daddy, he had to stay behind, too. At least he would then have a bracelet signature he could use for escape.

“But won’t it be bad for her? I mean, you said they take it pretty serious.”

“Yeah,” Izzy sat on the bed and flopped backwards. “Come here. I need to touch something that is not stupid.”

Duff stretched out next to him and put his head onto his chest. 

“You sure it’s not yours?”

Izzy chuckled. “Why are you asking?”

“Just want to make sure.” Duff lifted his head and gave him a questioning look. “You should be sure, you know. Because if it’s yours, that would make things pretty complicated. ‘cause then we can’t just leave it here. I mean, we would have to take it along and that means we would have to take Aino along and then she … would be kind of part of our lives forever, you know.”

“Just like that?” Izzy asked surprised. 

“Just like what?” Duff asked back. 

“You would just accept it like that? Another woman around us with my child?”

“What else should I do?” Duff asked. “If it’s there, it’s there. That’s the problem with babies, they don’t go away just because you would like them to. And most of them come with a mother in tow, so … I mean, it would be yours and what’s yours is mine, somehow. I mean, not in the absolute sense, of course. I mean, your ship is your ship, not mine and …”

“I get it Duff,” Izzy interrupted him before Duff could launch into a numeration of all his belongings. 

“Yeah, so … if it was your child, then it would also be mine, somehow. That’s what I mean.”

“Ok,” Izzy said. “What if I had cheated? On you?”

“Did you?” Duff looked up again, curious this time. 

Izzy smiled and shook his head. 

“Hm,” Duff made. “Same problem, really. Babies tend to not go away once they are there. They are loud, they are smelly and smear food everywhere. I should know because feeding them has always been my job. Since I was six or so. And changing diapers, when Mom was drunk. And telling them goodnight stories and stuff like that. So … yeah, same thing. Only I would be angry at first, I assume. Because you’ve got to be an idiot to cheat on me and make a baby in the process.”

The last statement was undeniably true. 

“I’m thinking …,” Izzy hesitated. It was really only thinking at the moment, but if he made this decision, Duff should be onboard with it. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m thinking about claiming the baby as mine.”

Duff looked up for a third time. Then he fully sat up and Izzy was treated to another one of his questioning looks. 

“Can you do that? DNA tests and all?”

Izzy shrugged. “Eskil would have to cover up for me.”

“And then?” Duff asked. “I mean, would we stay and … dunno … raise it?”

“No,” Izzy said. “No, we won’t stay. We’ll leave three days from now.”

“If we find somebody to hit over the head, you mean.”

“We will. We’ll go through the list tomorrow and come up with a plan, but we will.”

“OK. Then … what would it even mean?”

“It means that there will be a child who thinks that I’m its father and abandoned it.”

Duff shrugged. “My father abandoned me, too. And all my siblings’ fathers. Sucks, yeah, ‘cause with all those fathers around, we would have actually made a decent living. But I never knew him and there were others who took care of me.”

Not very well, Izzy thought. 

“You didn’t mind?” he asked aloud. 

“Yes, I did mind. Of course, I did. But it didn’t scar me for life, or anything.” Duff twisted a strand of hair around his finger. “And it’s not really yours. You’re just doing it to make sure it will at least have a happy mother. What will the other guy say? It’s his, after all. And he’ll be here and see it grow up and not be able to acknowledge it.”

“Good question,” Izzy said. But not the one he was going to solve right now. “It just … I don’t even know if it would be a good idea.”

“Whatever you do, Izzy,” Duff said after a while. “I’ll be OK with it. Even if it’s really yours and you don’t dare tell me and make up a stupid story instead, and we have to stay another nine months before we kidnap it and I’ll have to change diapers again. Which I would not look forward to.”

“It’s not mine,” Izzy said. “Really, Duff, it’s not.”

“All the better then.” Duff laid back down. “Can we go to sleep now? ‘cause somehow this day was a bit too eventful for my taste. I really need some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Izzy said. “Me, too.”

He didn’t fall asleep though, but stared into darkness for an eternity, trying to discover a way out and finding none. 

+++

The next morning, before pestering Eskil with more demands, before breakfast even, Izzy caught Slash by his arm and told him to come to his room. 

“About the list,” he said, when Axl looked curiously. “Go ahead, Duff’s already fetching breakfast. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Somebody came along the corridor and prevented Axl from asking questions. Sometimes having too many people around was a blessing. 

“What’s wrong?” Slash asked, when they were alone.

Izzy had pictured this moment about a dozen times in his head. He would hit Slash into his face first and ask for explanations later. Then he would hit him again. In between he would berate him for endangering their plans, Axl’s sanity, and the future of about everybody who had ever mattered to him. 

“Aino is pregnant,” he said instead. “You’re the father. What are your plans?”

“Aino …,” Slash stared at him, too confused to even let his hair fall forward. 

“Do you want to stay here?”

“I … no! Why … how?”

“How?” Izzy asked. “You are asking me how? According to Aino due to five minutes of fumbling around in the dark, but feel free to enlighten me otherwise. So, what do you plan to do? Live up to your responsibilities?”

Slash’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound made it out. 

“I take that as a ‘no’. In that case, keep it away from Axl until we have left.”

“Izzy, I …”

“Spare me the bullshit, Slash,” Izzy said. “I don’t care. We have three days and no time for any of that. All I need to know is: do you want to stay and raise a child with my wife and face all the consequences that will entail, or do you want to leave this shithole with the rest of us? For now. Because I might still change my mind later and throw you off my fucking ship. But you’re lucky. I need you to get away and so I have decided to give you a choice. Due to time constraints it comes without a respite. So, all I care about at this moment is: will you stay or will you come with us?”

“I’ll come with you,” Slash said. 

“Thought so,” Izzy replied. “Keep your mouth shut around Axl. And Duff, too. And anybody else. The fewer people know about this, the better.”

“What will happen…”

“Not your business anymore. Go and find Axl and Duff. I have an appointment.”

To Izzy’s relief, Slash didn’t give him any trouble. He looked like somebody had poked a needle into him and air was slowly leaking through the pinprick. Izzy expected him to crumple into a heap of empty skin any moment. 

Instead of waiting for that to happen, he left him standing and went to meet with Aino and Eskil. 

Aino was already there when he arrived, which threw him for a bit of a loop. He had hoped to be the first one and talk to Eskil in private. No such luck, it seemed. They went into his personal office, a cramped bit of space that was cut off the examination room by a partition wall. 

“First things first,” Eskil said. “Who wants the chair?”

There was only the desk chair and when nobody made any moves to claim it, he took it himself. Izzy leant against the door, while Aino stood a little forlorn in front of a cabinet. 

“Was this planned?” Eskil asked when nobody seemed eager to start the conversation.

“No!” Aino and Izzy said in unison. 

Aino sighed. “I was stupid. But shouldn’t we wait until we are really sure that it’s not Jeff’s?”

Eskil gave Izzy a questioning look. 

“Chances are … unlikely,” he then said. 

“Fuck,” Aino muttered. 

“Yeah, fuck.” Eskil ran a hand through his hair. “Do you even want the child?”

“I…,” Aino looked up. “Would that be possible?”

Izzy was just as surprised. With their lack of children at all, abortion was a no go. 

“Would have been a lot more possible if you’d come a bit earlier. Now we’d have to make it look as if you were losing the child because I just can’t send you off with a pill and leave you to it. Which means, we’d have to announce it first.”

“I’m not sure I want to get rid of it,” Aino said. 

Izzy was ready to bang his head against the door behind him. Here they were handed a halfway easy solution and she didn’t take it. 

“You really want the child?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” Aino exclaimed. “I don’t know anything, I …. “ she wiped over her face. “I need to think.”

“Yeah, sorry, but we don’t have time for that,” Eskil said. “At least not if you want my help because, sorry, I’m not risking everything for you guys. You’re stretching me thin enough as it is.”

Izzy needed time to think, too, but instead he made up his mind. “Can we let it fly under the radar?”

It gained him a sharp look. “You want to pass it off as yours?”

“Would that be possible?” Izzy asked. “Could you … fake the results?”

He didn’t point out that apparently Eskil had done it before. Multiple times. Once more shouldn’t be so difficult.

“This child will be under quite a bit of scrutinize.”

“I know,” Izzy said. “I grew up with this shit, remember?”

Eskil smiled a little. 

“How about, you declare the whole experiment a failure? The modifications didn’t properly carry over, case closed? No more scientific interest. Kid’s just a kid.”

“And you would really take responsibility for a child that is not yours?” Eskil asked. 

“Yes.”

“For ever? Because that’s what this will lead to, Jeff. We do this, you will never be able to change your mind. It will be your child. Nobody else’s. Which means, nobody will come suddenly out of the woodworks either and try to claim fatherhood.” The last was said with a look into Aino’s direction. 

“Won’t happen,” Izzy said. 

At least he hoped it wouldn’t. Maybe confronting Slash had been too hasty. But somehow there had been this insane idea that, idiot or not, he should get a choice. Be allowed to ruin everybody’s life by staying. Now he wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to leave him out of it and just vanish. Yeah, too late.

“Ok, then,” Eskil conceded. He didn’t look happy at all. “Aino?”

“Yes,” she gave Izzy a wavery smile, one that spoke of relief. “Yes, that would be … best I think.”

“All right, then. Let’s hope the baby doesn’t come with any outstanding features that are difficult to hide.”

Izzy had wondered about that, too. But Aino’s complexion was slightly darker than his and her hair did curl a little bit. Chances were not too bad. 

“I will do my best to delay any testing for as long as possible. I can always claim … dunno … unstable pregnancy or something and that I want to mess around with it as little as possible. When do you plan to announce this … disaster?”

“Solstice,” Izzy said. 

“Why then?” Aino asked. 

Izzy shrugged. Because everybody would get even drunker than they would be anyway and facilitate his escape plans. 

“Sounds like a good date to me.”

“Make that up among yourselves,” Eskil said. “Jeff, do you have another moment?”

Aino looked from one to the other, but when no explanation came forward, she took her clue and left. 

“You scared my slave,” Izzy said. “I send him down with pie and I get him back completely confused.”

“He will survive. I suppose going to Goral will lighten his mood. Which brings me to the next point. Aino doesn’t know about this, does she?”

“No.”

“Not my business, I guess, but it means she will be here with what is allegedly your child and you will be gone.”

“It might come to that.” 

Eskil flipped around on the screen in front of him. 

“What if this child will someday need a father?”

“I meant what I said,” Izzy replied. “I’ll take responsibility. I’ll give you my drop point data. Once I have them. And if you really think I should … get involved, I will.”

Communication across the border was difficult, but it was possible. 

Eskil shook his head. “Why are you doing this? It’s not yours.”

“You’re raising a child that isn’t yours either. It’s just a baby, Eskil. It will be loud, and smelly and smear food everywhere.”

“Right. Some people say they are adorable bundles of joy.”

Duff had said differently and Izzy was inclined to trust him. He had a lot more experience with babies than any of them. 

“Will you …,” Izzy hesitated. This was a huge request and one he had no right to make after all the things Eskil had already done. “Will you keep an eye on it?”

“What me?” Eskil’s expression turned disapproving. Maybe he didn’t believe in the bundle of joy theory either. 

“Somebody has to. Aino won’t exactly make mother of the galaxy. And, no, I’m not blaming her. I just want to avoid … the kid should have fun in life. Be a bit more than the failed experiment. You could be something like … godfather.”

“I’ll need more than a bottle of brandy for this,” Eskil replied. “Which I haven’t received yet, I might remind you.”

“How about … two years’ worth of assemblee shots?” 

“Two years …,” 

“It’s worth a shit ton of money on the black market,” Izzy said lightly. “And I don’t really need them anymore.”

“Give me half of it,” Eskil eventually said. “You’ll need some to make a new start. And if this poor, poor child eventually decides to run away, too, it will have some funds to do that.”

+++

Later that day, when his crew had returned from the XXG and Izzy had been released out of yet another meeting, they all assembled in his room to go through the plan. Sequestering themselves off was not a good idea, but they had not time to fuck around. 

“We still need a victim for the identity theft,” Izzy said. “I went through the list and I think our best shot are the guards on duty. I need to somehow get past them anyway.”

“You all look the same, they won’t notice it’s you,” Axl said. “At least not if you wear a wig or something.”

Izzy gave him a hard look. “We might be an inbred bunch of morons, but we can tell each other apart, believe it or not.”

“Can we just go into their cubicle?” Duff asked. 

“No. They have to open.”

“Would they open?” Slash asked. So far, he hadn’t said much. “For you?”

“They are not supposed to open for anybody, but communicate via the intercom.”

“Maybe we can draw them out?” Axl suggested. “Somehow. If something weird was happening outside, for example. Like an emergency.”

“That would make them raise alarm before coming out,” Izzy said. 

“Then something that doesn’t look like an emergency,” Duff suggested. “Just something that would make them curious and come look. Do you know these guys? What would make them curious?”

The duty schedule was no secret, and so Izzy had a look. 

“Hm,” he made. “Yeah, I know those two guys. Typical run of the mill clan idiots. Bit like Jari.”

“Then we need Axl to wiggle his ass around in front of the window,” Duff said. 

“You can wiggle your ass yourself,” Axl gave back. “You’re the slut here, remember?”

“That I am,” Duff said. “You know … that’s not the worst idea, actually.”

“What?” Izzy was not sure he had heard correctly. 

“I mean … you know … I once mentioned this strip club where I once worked?”

“You mean the one where you didn’t work the stage?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“What about it.”

Duff squirmed a little. “Might be that I did. Work the stage, I mean. Now and then.”

“Oh God!” Izzy groaned. “I knew it.”

“Only now and then. When somebody was sick or something.”

“So you want to do what? Start a strip show in front of the guard room?”

“Something like that. I mean … not completely and not directly in front of the window because then they wouldn’t have to come out and check. Just enough to make sure there’s something … worth looking for.”

Izzy closed his eyes. 

“And when they come out, then Axl can hit them over the head. He’s strong enough, he can manage both.”

“Will you need music?” Axl asked. 

“Definitely.”

“We’ll dim the light,” Axl went on. “Slash needs to hack into the system for that. Shouldn’t be so difficult. And then we’ll have the music come out of their intercom. So that at first they have no idea where to look.”

“Guys!” Izzy interrupted him before Axl could go into full stage drama planning mode. “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” Duff asked completely unfazed. 

“Because…,” Izzy started, but, yeah, why not? 

“Do you have a better plan?” Axl asked. 

“Yeah!” Izzy exclaimed. “No,” he admitted. 

“See?” 

Axl was positively beaming now. This played right into his personal sense of drama. 

“You’ll need another outfit,” he said. “Something that doesn’t make you look as if Izzy picked you out of a bargain bin. And we’ll need to practice the choreography.”

“The choreo…” Izzy decided that he had enough. “Do that on the ship. Not here.”

“Clothes?” Axl insisted. “Really, I mean, really, Izzy…look at him! Losing that would not be considered sexy, but a good deed to humanity!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll ask Youla to take you to the clothing store. You can tell her I want to show Duff off during Solstice.”

“Cool!” Duff said as if Axl wasn’t just planning to dress him up to pimp him out. 

“You don’t mean that,” Izzy said, but Duff’s smile made clear that, yes, he did mean it. And why not? He had had sex for a camera, delivering a strip dance for a pair of stupid guards was nothing compared to what he had asked of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter number is now likely final. There will be one more chapter with the grande finale, and then a short one with some kind of epilogue.
> 
> (And in case I didn't make it obvious: if I should ever decide to write a sequel, here is the jump point to start).


	60. Grand Theft Space Ship

The next three days passed a lot faster than Izzy would have liked. He wasn’t ready. None of them was ready. But he knew, even if they planned and prepped for another decade, they wouldn’t be ready. 

In the morning of the big day, he took Aino to see his Dad and make the announcement. It was a strange scene, something out of a bad movie or maybe a hell dimension. His father hugged first Aino and then him and declared how proud he was of them. Izzy felt even more uncomfortable than through any of the previous meetings he had suffered through. But it served its purpose. By evening the whole community would be informed. If there was one thing, his people were good at, it was gossip. 

The rest of the day he spent in hiding. Slash was on the XXG, prepping her for a fast exit. Another step in their plan that left him uneasy. Izzy would have to enter under a false identity and to be on the save side, they were setting its duration to about an hour. That meant, for an hour he would be unable to do anything on board his own ship except sitting around. Slash would take care of the engine and Axl had to fly. 

Under normal circumstances he trusted Axl with his ship, but he would have to be really fast to avoid first the tractor beam and then any hunting ships that might be sent after them. Hopefully not too many. If he was lucky, the majority of their hunters would be too drunk to remember how to start an engine. 

The border itself was around the corner, reachable in less than an hour if they gave it all. But his whole clan made a living out of intercepting fugitives. They were a community of freaking head hunters, and they knew what they were doing. 

When evening approached, Duff returned from … whatever he and Axl had been doing. 

“All set up?” Izzy asked when he entered their room. 

Duff nodded. “Slash showed Axl how to get into the local system. He can control light, speakers, fuck, he can turn up the heating if he wants to.”

“I suppose he might want to,” Izzy replied. 

“Yeah, might,” Duff confirmed. 

He stood a little forlorn in the middle of the room. 

“What’s up?” Izzy asked. “Stagefright?”

“Totally.” Duff’s eyes widened almost comically. “You have no idea what Axl is making me wear.”

Izzy chuckled. “You could have said ‘no’.”

Duff gave him an unimpressed look. “You try saying ‘no’ to Axl.”

“I do all the time.” Izzy stood up. “Come on. Get dressed. I want to see.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Oh yes!” Izzy covered the few steps between them and grabbed him by his upper arms. “You can and you will. Now.”

Duff squirmed. “Can I at least do it in the bathroom?”

“If it makes you feel better.” 

Whatever Duff did in the bathroom took an eternity. Then the door opened and there he stood. Izzy swallowed. He knew of course that Duff was gorgeous, down to the last square inch of his body, but this … this was something else. 

“Wow,” was all he said. His throat was too dry for more. 

“You like it?” Duff pulled at a top that was cropped so short, it revealed skin each time he moved. 

What was there not to like? Izzy thought. Tight, fitting … yes, fitting … pants that enticed the admirer’s eye on an epic journey from his ankles up to his hips. That alone was a treat he would never forget. The rest of Duff’s body was dressed more opulently. The scanty top was covered by some type of vest, then there was a scarf around his neck and some other piece of cloth dangling down from one of the pants’ back pocket. Enough material to lose without having to really get naked. 

That, Izzy had to admit, was actually a brilliant idea. It would save them time if Duff could just leave whatever he had tossed around, instead of having to collect his clothes again. 

“He wants me to wear a hat.” Duff put it on, but Izzy shook his head. 

“I mean, it looks good and if you need it for the … ehm … choreography, you can pick it up later, but don’t run around with it all day. Makes you stick out.” 

Duff took the hat off again. “But I do look OK?”

“You look awesome,” Izzy said. “I just want to … tear everything off right away. I’ll run around with a boner all evening.”

Duff blushed, but he smiled at the same time. 

They would keep this shit. Oh yes, they would. And the next time Duff needed clothes, he would send Axl shopping with him. 

“When will it be time to go?” Duff asked. 

“Half an hour or so,” Izzy said. “I don’t want to be among the first.”

“Where does it even happen? The sitting room?”

Duff came over and Izzy couldn’t help himself. He pulled him onto the bed and within seconds they were all above each other. 

“No, you’ll ruin it,” Duff complained when he tried to rid him of the top layers. 

Izzy relented. 

“We have some type of hall for that. Nothing spectacular, just enough room for everybody and tons of food on top of that. And you’ll miss out on all the food, by the way, because your pants won’t fit anymore if you eat anything at all.”

“I won’t be there for more than a few minutes anyway,” Duff replied. “And I’m too nervous to eat.”

“I thought you were a professional.” 

Duff rolled his eyes. “I did it … maybe …”

“Just teasing,” Izzy said. “You’ll do great. I’m sure of it. And you don’t even have to do it that long, just long enough for them to come out and …”

“… have Axl hit them over the head.”

And Izzy really, really wished he could be there and watch. 

+++

Duff was glad that he didn’t have to stay at the celebrations for long. There was a lot of congratulating going on, as by now the complete ship was informed about Izzy’s and Aino’s upcoming parenthood. He himself had nothing to do but stand by and watch. And be molested. People suddenly thought that, Izzy’s bed slave or not, it was OK to grope him however they liked. 

Normally a glare from Izzy was enough to keep people at bay, but Izzy didn’t have time for that and the first clan members were already too drunk to take subtle hints. 

Duff felt even more sorry for him than for himself. He was dragging Aino around and suffered through congratulating hugs and slaps and pats. Who would have thought that one single, not very advanced pregnancy was such a drama? His Mom had always had to make do with an upset ‘again?’ from any neighbours and relatives. 

In addition, people were getting drunker and less inhibited by the minute. Which was a whole different type of insanity. Duff had thought he knew what getting drunk meant. He had been part of enough nights of inebriated crazy to have a pretty good grasp on what people were actually able to put away before keeling over. 

Turned out he had been utterly, utterly naïve. Like a kid thinking he was a party animal because he had shared a bottle of beer with friends. 

“Time to make your exit,” Izzy whispered into his ear when things eventually turned raunchy. “Best chance we’ll get.”

Duff was happy to obey and even happier when he spotted Axl waiting for him outside. 

“Took you long enough,” he said. 

“You have no idea what is going on in there,” Duff said. “Really, Izzy was right. None of them will even be able to steer a ship.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Axl pulled him down the corridor. “Slash left a few bottles in front of the guard cabin, too when he went for a last check of the ship. Told them something like it being unfair that everybody was having fun except them.”

Duff stopped. “But that might give us away!”

“Nah,” Axl pulled him forward again. “They’re idiots. Just took them and polished them up within minutes. Should be a bit tipsy by now. Will hopefully make it easier for you.”

Duff hoped so, too. He was getting more and more nervous with every step he made. Stage fright wasn’t that new for him, he had often experienced it whenever he had made one of his substitute stints for strippers and musicians. But this was the first time actual lives – including his own – depended on him. 

“Where’s the hat?” 

Duff touched his head. No hat. “Izzy told me to leave it.”

“Izzy has no idea!” Axl exclaimed. “Why do you even listen to him? We had anything planned out. How could forget the hat?”

“Want me to get it? It’s in Izzy’s room.”

“No time!” he didn’t even slow down. “You’ll have to make do without the hat. But it’ll suck because you can’t remove it and shake your hair.”

“I’ll just have to shake it without removing the hat first.”

“That’ll only ruin the effect.”

There was no mollifying Axl and so Duff gave up. 

When they reached the final door before the docking area, the hat was forgotten. 

“OK?” 

Duff took a deep breath. “OK, he said. Showtime.”

Axl took position in a corner behind the guards’ cubicle and booted a screen while Duff hovered just outside the window’s visibility range. The light flickered before it dimmed and then slow, seductive blues music came out of the intercom. 

He had done this before, Duff reminded himself. Yes, he had. Had he been good? Good enough to have people cheer him on. But had he thought about what he had been doing? No! He had moved on instinct, had just done what felt right, had taken his clues from the audience’s reactions and exactly that was the problem now! Because with Axl nothing could be done on instinct. With Axl, things had to be planned to the last step, practiced a million times, polished to perfection, and worked to death. 

Choreography! 

Right. Duff’s head was worryingly empty. He couldn’t remember a single step of what Axl had tried to drill into him. 

“Get fucking started!” Axl hissed from somewhere behind him. 

The scarf he remembered dimly. Something about the freaking scarf. 

It didn’t work, and Duff decided that he would do what he always did, the way he had sex, played bass, piloted a dirt racer, or performed a fucking strip dance: by instinct. 

He closed his eyes and started moving, first outside the guard’s view, then dipping into it for a step here or a step there. He swayed and rolled and wiggled and, yes, starting with the scarf suddenly felt like a good idea and so he let the first piece of cloth flutter down in front of the window. 

After that, he got into the groove. He stopped thinking, stopped worrying, completely forgot why he was even doing what he was doing, and just kept going. He lost more strategically placed pieces of cloth and, wow, it was fun to see the colourful fabric fly through the air. Then the vest followed and he had just started on having the shirt ride up more and more inches when somebody patted onto his shoulder. 

Duff shrieked and jumped and there was Axl behind him. 

“What the fuck!” he exclaimed, angry to be interrupted at such an important moment. Then he looked past Axl and saw the two guards lying on the floor. 

Axl shook his head. “This was not what we had practiced.” 

“No,” Duff agreed. “But it worked.”

Axl didn’t look pacified, but even he seemed to agree that there was no time for additional discussions about ruined choreographies. Didn't mean he wouldn't drag it up again later. For the next five years, probably. All of Goral would learn about how Duff fucked up the perfect stripping choreography. If they ever made it that far. If not, they could argue about it in the dungeon cells before being executed. “I pinged Slash and Izzy. They should be here in a minute.”

It was a bit more than a minute, but then they were indeed there. 

“I can’t believe this really worked out,” Izzy muttered, while Slash fiddled around with Axl’s screen and the guard’s bracelet and then took Izzy’s hand to transfer the stolen identity to him. 

“Done.” He stood up. 

“OK, guys,” Izzy said and looked anxiously towards the entrance of the connection tunnel. “Let’s try.”

He walked towards the door and reached for the intercom. His fingers hovered over the display for a second and then he typed his new identity in. The door opened and for a moment Duff thought, Izzy would faint. 

“Fuck, you guys are awesome,” he breathed. And then he smiled, the first uninhibited, unguarded, unabashed sign of joy he had given in months. 

He crossed the border towards the connection and Duff and Axl followed. They were already a few steps ahead when Duff noticed that Slash wasn’t coming. 

“What’s up?” Izzy asked. 

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Go ahead. Remember, Izzy, you have no authority to use anything on the ship. Don’t try, just … sit down somewhere and don’t move.”

“What…Slash!” Izzy hissed, but Slash was already running. 

“Fuck!” Axl exclaimed. “What’s that about?”

“No idea. But he’s got five minutes,” Izzy said. “Whatever it is. If he doesn’t come back, Duff, you’ll have to man the engine.”

“You don’t mean that,” Duff said. Axl looked just as shocked. 

“Hopefully not, but after what we have just done, our cover is blown. We can’t stay. We just can’t.”

He turned and walked ahead. Duff followed while Axl still stood rooted. 

“Come on.” Duff pulled at his arm. “Let’s get everything prepared for take-off. We need to be ready when Slash’s back. He will be back. He will never let you go without him.”

That seemed to leave enough of an impression with Axl and he finally followed. 

When they were back on board, Izzy looked as if he was about to cry. He didn’t follow Slash’s instructions, but let his hands run reverently over every piece of metal as they made their way upstairs, caressing his ship like the long-lost lover he hadn’t believed to ever hold in his arms again. Duff was short of feeling jealous. 

Axl moved on to the bridge. He would have to steer and while their original idea had been to have Izzy next to him to at least assist verbally, they had to change plans now. If they really went without Slash, Duff would need help a lot more urgently than Axl. 

The engine room was prepared to a point that one switch would be enough to start and Duff was halfway confident that he would manage if he really had to. Still, he had never been as happy as at the moment when Slash’s curly head poked through the entry of the engine room. 

Followed by Aino. 

Izzy stared. Duff, too. 

“No time for discussion,” Slash said. “Aino is coming with us. There were two guards, two identities. And sorry, chief, it’s the right thing to do.”

Izzy looked as if he wanted to say something very not nice, but then he just nodded. 

“Take off,” he said. “Now!”

The engine came to life, the connection to the tunnel broke off with one switch of the system, and then, for the first time in what felt like a hundred years, they were out in space again. 

+++

It was not the right moment to think about Slash or Aino or unborn babies. When you were making your big escape, any distraction was lethal. Izzy had left the engine room to Slash and was now kneeling next to the pilot seat, eyes on the screen, mumbling soft instructions to Axl. 

“Left, right, right, fuck Axl, right I said! Phew, that was tight.”

The area was littered with broken off pieces from planets, moons, and meteorites and they were flying far too fast. It was a perfect position for the mother ship, for nobody in their right mind was able to approach them or leave at high speed. Everybody but them, apparently.

Izzy had a look at the main screen. The scanner had picked up on the first followers. Not many yet, far less than he had feared, but enough to make the use of the tractor beam impractical. 

“Faster!” Izzy said, “dip behind that rock there, then down.”

Axl did as told. Izzy could feel the tension radiating off his body, saw the fine sheen of sweat over every inch of naked skin, and almost smelled his fear. 

“You’re doing great,” he said, partly because it was true, partly to just reassure him. 

“Shut up,” Axl mumbled. “I need to concentrate.”

The XXG was not quite as fast as the tiny hunting ships, but they were more reckless, more driven, and far, far more desperate. There were a few almost misses, but then they were past the rocky patch and reached the last stretch towards the border. 

“Power!” Izzy ordered. They had switched the intercom to constant connection. “Give it all you’ve got.”

Slash did. Now they were either make it or explode from sheer overload. Suddenly Izzy understood how Duff had to be feeling during a dirt race. This was insane, sheer madness, but the adrenaline rush made it all worth it. Even if they were caught and dragged back, he wouldn’t want to miss this experience. 

The hunters came nearer, but Izzy already knew that their headway was enough. They reached the border and passed. 

Over. They had made it. Suddenly he felt faint and collapsed backwards. His vision blackened for a moment, his heart raced, and for a few gasps, air wouldn’t reach his lungs. Then his senses cleared and he sat up again. 

“OK?” Axl asked. He had slowed down and was now busy switching to autopilot.

“Peachy,” Izzy said. “All … peachy. Let’s get the others.”


	61. Chapter 61

Axl didn’t get it. 

“Why is Aino here?” he asked Duff for the third time, but Duff just shrugged. He looked uncomfortable though, as if he at least had an idea what this might be about.

Izzy’s camouflage had worn off and he had taken over the pilot seat. It wasn’t necessary, they could just use the auto pilot for now, but Axl had the suspicion, that he needed to reconnect with his ship. They were probably whispering endearments into each other’s ear. Duff would have to share his lover tonight. 

“Axl?” Slash suddenly said softly. “Can we … talk somewhere?”

This was a strange request, one Duff might make, but not Slash. It was even stranger because they should all be screaming, laughing, rejoicing, not stand around as if the universe might collapse any moment. Something was wrong here and he got the feeling that he was the only one who had no idea what it might be. 

“OK,” he said. “My room?”

Slash nodded. Axl wondered if they should fetch snacks. Duff always brought food when they were having one of their explanatory talks. He decided against it, and not only because his stomach was far too upset to eat anything. 

They settled on the bed and for a long, long time, Slash was just silent. 

“I cheated on you,” he finally said. 

Axl frowned. He knew what cheating was, of course, although it had always been a bit of a weird concept to him. What was so important about sex that you were not allowed to share it? Then it dawned on him. 

“With Aino?” he asked. 

Slash nodded, hiding behind his hair. 

“That’s why you brought her? So you can …”

“What?” Slash sat up and Axl saw his eyes. They looked at him in shock. “No! It will never happen again.”

“Oh.” Axl picked at his pants. “Am I missing something? Because Duff said, if I don’t get what you’re talking about, I should ask you and not him because that would make you … happy.”

“Aino is pregnant,” Slash said. He sounded as if he was admitting to something too painful to speak out aloud. 

“I know,” Axl said. “Everybody was talking about it today. Oh, that’s why she’s here? Because Izzy didn’t want to leave his baby?” 

That actually made sense. Axl had no idea how to deal with babies, but Duff did, so maybe Izzy wanted to give it a try. He still didn’t fully get the family concept. On Tarui, children were separated from their parents right after birth, and from what Duff had told him about his own family, he had assumed that humans left the raising of children to the mother. But then there was Izzy’s father who was strange and distant, but at least there. Would Izzy want to do that? Somehow, he couldn’t imagine it. 

“It’s not Izzy’s,” Slash said. “It’s mine.”

“Yours?” Now Axl really wished he had Duff here to explain things to him. “From … when you cheated? You did it to make a baby?”

“No!” Slash exclaimed. “Gods, Axl, no. It was an accident. All of it was. I shouldn’t have cheated and I definitely shouldn’t have made a baby.”

“Then why did you?” 

“I … don’t know. I was upset and drunk and there was Aino and she was drunk, too and I … I fucked up, and I’m so sorry about it. It should never have happened.”

“OK.” Axl wished Slash would calm down and give him a moment to make sense of what he was hearing. “Was it because she’s got breasts?” he then asked. 

“What?” Now Slash looked just like Axl felt. Utterly confused. 

“Duff said you liked breasts. He’s seen your porn history.”

Slash blushed, but then he looked slightly offended. 

“Aino’s got breasts. I don’t. So… was that the reason?”

“It’s got nothing to do with … breasts.” Slash almost coughed out. “It’s got to do with me being an idiot and making a mistake. One I deeply regret. But one I can’t undo. And Duff needs to stop meddling with everybody's affairs.”

“OK,” Axl said. “Soooo, that what you wanted to tell me?”

For a moment he wondered if Slash’s eyes would pop out of his head. 

“Why aren’t you mad?”

“Should I be? I mean … you had sex with Aino. I don’t pretend to get it, but … Look. I really don’t know this much about this shit. But, I know I’m not the greatest when it comes to sex, I mean, not like Duff, and if you want to have more or with somebody else…”

“No!” Slash said again. “No, that’s not it. Not at all. It’s … I want to have sex with you and only you.”

Axl sighed. “But I don’t want to have so much sex,” he said. “I like it now and then, but not all the time. And if you want to have more …?” He shrugged. “But maybe not with Aino. Can we find somebody else? At Goral, perhaps?”

“Not with Aino and not with everybody else,” Slash said. “And if you don’t want to have sex, then say so. I lived through years with very little sex. And I have my right hand. I will survive.”

“OK.” He really wished Slash would make any sense. “Soooo, what exactly are we talking about?”

“The baby,” Slash said. “There will be one and it will be mine.”

Axl nodded. They’ve been through that already.

“I want to be part of its life. I don’t want to be like … like … Duff’s father. I want to be there for it when it wants me to.”

“So we will raise it? Won’t Aino want to keep it?” Mothers usually wanted to keep their children, which was the only thing about family life he was sure about. 

“That’s the problem,” Slash said. “Aino will want to keep it. I think. And I should be there for the baby, too because it should have mother and father. Which might mean that we will have to live close enough to each other to do that.”

“Will Aino stay on the ship?” Axl wasn’t sure he liked the idea. He had been looking forward to it being just the four of them again. 

“Izzy would never stand for that.”

That was a relief. 

“We’ll go to Goral I, I suppose. And Aino will leave the ship there. No idea what Izzy is planning, but we’ll all have to stay, too. At least for a while. To get the collars off of you and Duff. Izzy says there should be somebody who knows how to do it without getting you fried in the process.”

That would actually be nice. 

“And then we all have to find out how to make a living. Izzy’s business is shot.” 

“So what you’re saying is …”

“That I have no idea,” Slash replied. “That we have to figure out how to do things at Goral. That none of us knows what we have to expect. That we have to find a way to make it all work. And that I managed to complicate it all by fucking up.”

Axl shrugged. That was nothing new. Though he still had difficulties to grasp the concept of there being a mini version of Slash soon. He would have to ask Duff about it. Duff knew everything there was to know about babies. Unlike Slash, who seemed to be just as clueless as Axl was himself. Maybe Slash should talk to Duff, too. Maybe they should get Duff over and talk both to him. Duff was awesome at making things understandable.

“I guess we’ll find out somehow,” he said instead. “Just like always.”

“Yeah.”

Slash put an arm around Axl, hesitantly, as if he expected Axl to slap his hand away. But he just leant into it, and it felt just as warm and cosy as it always did. 

“Want to read a bit?” 

They got comfortable and he picked up the screen. 

-The End -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. You read that right. This is the end. 
> 
> It is bad form to not end with the character you started with, but, really, let's leave Izzy alone to have sex with his ship.

**Author's Note:**

> Click this link for some awesome artwork by sweetcherrypop
> 
> https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1WF6ORL7TbZmZ2990vdt-4k-xnT92s_C9?usp=sharing


End file.
